


Life of a Couple

by cutelittlekitty



Series: Heavenly Body [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU-modern setting, Anal Sex, Birthday, Bottom!Gabriel, CharM (Charlie/Meg), Destiel - Freeform, Feels, Flirting flirters, Halloween, Just a little angst, Karaoke, Lesbian Sex, Multi, NSFW, Pool Party, Sabriel - Freeform, Shower Sex, Surprises, Switch!Gabriel, Tooth-Rotting Sweetness, Top!Sam, Wedding, angst and love, bottom!Castiel, having fun, open mic night, switch!sam, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutelittlekitty/pseuds/cutelittlekitty
Summary: Timestamps in the lives of the Heavenly Body main characters.  No cliffhangers, though some stories may be posted in more than one part, so feel free to read chapters as they come out :D





	1. Working for the Weekend part I

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to include chapter pairings, characters, tags, and summaries with each chapter so if there's a pairing you don't like you'll know which chapters to skip hehe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Gabe, you won't even let me pay rent, and now you want to give me money too? That kinda feels li-"_   
>  _"It's not giving you money, it's hiring you. You'd be working for it. At the bar; not at home. Because no matter how busy the bar gets, I couldn't have anyone else work with me. Back when the Blue Diamond first opened, I tried hiring someone to help out Friday and Saturday nights; gave up after the sixth employee quit."_   
>  _"Let me guess, you kept sleeping with them?" Sam asks with a sardonic smirk._   
>  _"Hey, I wouldn't sleep with an employee; I know better than to invite those kinds of complications," Gabe protests._   
>  _"Does that mean if I let you hire me you'll stop sleeping with me?"_   
>  _"Not a chance, babe," Gabe grins, getting up and moving to stand behind Sam's chair, sliding his arms around his lover's neck, hands crawling down over firm, cotton-covered muscle._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Pairings:** Gabriel (Supernatural)/Sam Winchester (main focus), Dean Winchester/Castiel (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters
> 
>  **Chapter Characters:** Gabriel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury, Meg Masters, Pamela Barns, Asa Fox, Garth Fitzgerald, 
> 
> **Chapter Tags:** Sabriel, AU-modern setting, karaoke, Top!Sam, Bottom!Gabriel, Flirting flirters, having fun
> 
>  **Chapter Rating:** Mature

"Hey, Sam?" Gabe says one afternoon over breakfast. They've been living together two weeks, and things seem to be working out great, though Sam has yet to let him top. But Gabe has a feeling he's close to conceding. Lately Sam's been asking how it feels, how much it hurts, what Gabe's first time was like (rushed and painful and on top of that the guy had left right after so Gabe hadn't even been able to sleep; after that Gabe had done some research, and the next time he'd been with a guy they'd both enjoyed it thoroughly and been too worn out to move afterward). Last week, Sam had let Gabe fuck between his thighs again, which, considering the guy's thighs are pure muscle, was pretty damn good. But not the same as anal. Of course, that isn’t what he wants to ask about right now anyway.

"Hmm?" Sam asks, not looking up from the job listings he’s browsing on his computer. 

Gabe wishes he wouldn't use the thing while they’re eating, but apparently the internet is the new newspaper. "I was thinking... the bar's been getting a bit busy for one bartender on karaoke nights; didn't you say you worked at a bar in California?"

"Are you offering me a job?" Sam asks skeptically.

"If you want one, yeah," Gabe confirms, tracing a finger absentmindedly over Sam's arm.

"Gabe, I'm not sure that's a good idea. We live in the same house; we already spend most of our time with each other. Don't you think it'd be too much to work together too?"

"You've been coming to work with me every day anyway; why not get paid for it? Besides, once classes start you'll be gone all day; by evening I'll be dying for your company," Gabe counters.

"Yeah, but you only need help Friday and Saturday. I want a full-time job for the summer," Sam replies.

"Actually, I've been trying to come up with ways to increase business during the week, too. Maybe an open mic night or something."

"Why not add a couple more nights of karaoke? I bet Dean and Cas would rather come to sing when it's less busy," Sam suggests.

"I did talk to the current DJ about that; he said he doesn't do weekdays. But there was a kid in last Sunday, asking about hosting during the week. Only problem is, the current guy won't work if we have a competitor working on other nights," Gabe replies.

"Well, is the kid any good? Could he take over weekends? 'Cause I know I've heard a few complaints about the guy you have now; people have said he sings too much himself, doesn't give enough time to others, doesn’t have enough songs."

"Looked a bit geeky, but seemed pretty energetic and I checked over the songs he has; bit heavy on the country but lots of classic rock and other stuff too. Plus, he has more music altogether. Problem is, if I give him a chance and he sucks we'll be up a creek. He's cheaper than the other guy though, and I've kinda got a good feeling about him. Dunno, what do you think I should do?"

"I don't know, maybe have the kid do an hour or two on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon? You could have Cas and Dean and Charlie and Meg come and the six of us take turns singing, see how he does? It'd be a bit smaller than a normal audience, but then, the weeknights would be slow to start, so..." Sam shrugs. 

"That could work. If he can take over Friday and Saturday, and does good with just us, we can add him on Tuesday and Thursday. And Wednesday can be open mic night. Maybe he could host that too, then he'd have a steady 5 days a week, and weeknights at the bar would pick up. And you can work as much as you want, whenever you want," Gabe grins, fingers still ghosting over Sam's arm as his other hand pops the last of his strawberry Danish into his mouth.

"Gabe, you won't even let me pay rent, and now you want to give me money too? That kinda feels li-"

"It's not giving you money, it's hiring you. You'd be working for it. At the bar; not at home. Because no matter how busy the bar gets, I couldn't have anyone else work with me. Back when the Blue Diamond first opened, I tried hiring someone to help out Friday and Saturday nights; gave up after the sixth employee quit."

"Let me guess, you kept sleeping with them?" Sam asks with a sardonic smirk.

"Hey, I wouldn't sleep with an employee; I know better than to invite those kinds of complications," Gabe protests.

"Does that mean if I let you hire me you'll stop sleeping with me?" 

"Not a chance, babe," Gabe grins, getting up and moving to stand behind Sam's chair, sliding his arms around his lover's neck, hands crawling down over firm, cotton-covered muscle.

Leaning back into the contact, Sam runs his hands up and down Gabe's arms. "So, if you didn't sleep with them, why'd they keep quitting? Or is that the reason?"

Gabe laughs. "No, the problem was this," he replies, hands roaming over Sam's chest in illustration. "Most of the time I don't even realize I'm doing it, but I seem to have an unconscious habit of touching people. Not as much as I touch you, and not sexually, but, yeah, just frequent casual contact that either made them uncomfortable or turned them on, so..." Gabe shrugs, nuzzling against the side of Sam's face.

"So you want me to work for you so you can sexually harass me?" Sam teases affectionately, clean-shaven face rubbing back against Gabe's light stubble.

"Told you, it's not sexual. Just contact; warmth."

"We can try it out; see how it goes. Like we did with living together," Sam suggests.

"Thanks, babe," Gabe smiles, kissing Sam on the cheek before reluctantly pulling away to go back to his chair. "Speaking of living together, how do you think it's going? Because for me, I think it's pretty fucking fantastic," he grins.

"Well, I'm definitely getting plenty of exercise," Sam jokes. "But I've got no complaints," he adds with a smile, closing his computer so he can finish his breakfast.

"Good," says Gabe, beaming. "Just make sure if you do come across any issues to voice them. I know you tend to let concerns rattle around in that oversized brain of yours rather than saying something."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with wanting to work my problems out myself," Sam protests.

"Of course not, but you should know it's ok to talk things over, too. Sometimes, trying to figure things out on your own isn't enough. And any time you need to talk, I'm always happy to listen."

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Sam smiles.

“Now, I think there’s enough time for a shower before I have to head to the bar. Care to join me?” Gabe grins, wriggling his eyebrows.

“For the shower or the bar?” Sam teases.

“Both,” Gabe smirks, licking his lips and ogling Sam like he’s a second strawberry Danish that’s about to be devoured.

“Huh. Somehow, I’m suddenly feeling a bit dirty,” Sam laughs.

“Oh, babe, you’re going to be more than ‘a bit’ dirty before we get around to getting clean,” Gabe promises, grabbing Sam’s hand and leading him upstairs to the master bathroom.

 

*****

 

"Hey everyone, thanks for coming," Gabe says after unlocking and opening the door for Dean, Cas, Charlie, and Meg. It's Sunday afternoon and they're here for a three hour karaoke test run.

"Thank you for inviting us," Cas replies as they all enter the bar, grateful for the air conditioning after the humid heat outside.

"Yeah, thanks for the singing and free booze," Dean grins, clapping Gabe companionably on the shoulder, then adding a bit of warning pressure as he asks, "How things going with Sammy? You treatin' him right?"

"Always the overprotective brother," Gabe quips, trying to hide his wince at the fingers squeezing his shoulder. "Don't worry, things are amazing with Sammy. We're both very happy. Care for me to go into more detail?" he teases, wriggling his eyebrows.

Dean releases the shoulder like a white-hot poker, hurrying after Cas who's already at the pushed-together tables they'll be sitting at today. "Details not necessary. Bring me a beer?" he calls to Gabe as he goes.

Charlie and Meg laugh. "You sure do enjoy baiting him, don't you?" Meg drawls.

"I enjoy baiting everyone," Gabe grins. "But yeah, Dean's especially fun to tease."

"Just don't mess up with Sam," Charlie warns, still chuckling. "You know Dean will kick your ass if you hurt his brother."

"I know, believe me. But I plan on making Sam happy for the rest of my life, if he'll let me," Gabe replies, surprising the girls with his rarely used serious voice.

"Did I hear my name?" Sam asks, coming back from where he'd been helping the new guy set up his equipment.

"Just telling the girls you're not available for a threesome," Gabe jokes.

"Right. Somehow I doubt that."

"Don't worry, Sam, he was just telling us Dean doesn't need to worry about you two," Charlie smiles. "So, Gabe, this everyone?"

"Almost. Pamela's coming with a friend of hers, but she texted a bit ago and said they were going to be a few minutes late."

"Oooh, Pamela. She hot?" Meg asks, getting a smack on the shoulder from Charlie for the question.

"It's ninety-five degrees out there, everyone's hot," Gabe deflects with a chuckle. "Bloody marys today or something different?"

"You know us so well," Charlie grins. "The usual sounds good. Need help bringing everything over?"

"He's already got help. You two go grab a seat, we'll be over shortly," Sam replies, shooing them toward the table.

"I don't think you're qualified to do anything 'shortly', Samsquatch," Gabe teases.

"Samsquatch?" Sam asks, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, 'cause you're tall as a sasquatch, aka bigfoot."

"Yeah, but you've never called me anything but Sam or babe before."

Gabe leans against Sam's arm, nuzzling like a cat. "Out loud. You know I always give everyone nicknames for my own personal use."

"Really?" Sam asks.

"You didn't realize? I know you've heard me call Charlie 'Red' and Meg 'Hands'. Every customer that comes in gets a nickname in my head; helps me remember them even if I can't attach a real name right away."

"Huh. Guess that makes sense. What names you have for Cas and Dean?"

"Angel for Cas, 'cause of his voice, and ... promise you won't get mad?"

"Umm... I promise I _probably_ won't get mad?"

"Keep in mind, we met years ago so the name originated back then… Sexy."

"Sexy? Dean? That's the first impression you had of him, but you really never tried to tap that?" Sam asks suspiciously.

"Told you before, babe, he was with someone back then and by the time he was free we were friends and I didn't want to mess that up," Gabe replies earnestly, taking Sam's hand and pulling him back behind the bar. "How are you at strawberry daiquiris?"

"I can make most standard drinks, strawberry daiquiris included," Sam says, not missing the change in subject.

"Good. You make that, I'll get the rest. You want a draft?"

"Yeah, please," Sam says as he begins making the drink. "Wait, is this for you?" he asks. 

"Yeah, why? Don't worry, I'm not gonna get sloshed before work," Gabe assures.

"Not that, just wanted to make sure I make it right."

A confident knock at the door interrupts them and Gabe goes to let the late arrivals in. Sam puts all the drinks on a tray and takes them to the table as Gabe leads the newcomers over to introduce Pamela to everyone, who then introduces her friend, Asa Fox. Gabe takes the empty tray from Sam and goes back to the bar, grabbing a couple drafts for Pam and Asa then returning to take his seat next to Sam.

"Wow, this is even better than if I'd made it myself," Gabe marvels when he tastes his daiquiri.

"Well, knowing it was for you, I added a little extra sugar and used sprite instead of lemon and lime juice, along with a half pump of strawberry syrup. I also went light on the rum since you're working tonight," Sam grins. He'd picked up on Gabe's sweet tooth even before they'd gotten together.

"Catering to the customer's tastes is a sure sign of a good bartender. I'm so glad you agreed to work with me," Gabe smiles back, twining his fingers with Sam's, heedless of the warning glare from Dean.

The sound of a throat clearing over the mic draws everyone's attention to the karaoke area. "Good afternoon, and thanks all for coming for Garth-a-go-go karaoke. I'm Garth, and I'll be your music guru for the afternoon. Now, before we get started, I'd like to take just a moment to remind everyone of karaoke etiquette. We're all here to have fun, right?"

Dean exchanges an eye roll with Sam as the brothers struggle to suppress their mirth at the goofy, gangly guy.

"I _said_ , we're all here to have fun, _right_?" Garth repeats enthusiastically.

"Yes/Yeah," Cas and Charlie cheer together.

"I know we got a small crowd, but I'm sure y'all can do better than that. We here to have fun?!"

Everyone responds with various affirmations, much louder this time.

"That's the way! Now, a big part of the fun is the enthusiasm of the audience. So, please don't talk too loud when folks are singin' and always remember to clap after the song; if you're the one up at the mic you'd want everyone to clap for you, right? Takes some guts to get up in front of a crowd but we're all friends at Garth-a-go-go and we're all gonna encourage each other, right?"

They all cheer, getting dragged into Garth's enthusiasm.

" _That's_ what I like to hear! Now, you got books, submission slips, and pencils on your tables. Look through, pick a song, fill out a slip and bring it on up! And while yer all are doin' that, I'm gonna start us off with one'a my faves. Feel free to get up and dance any time ya like; music is meant to be enjoyed!" With that, Garth starts the song up; It's Bell Biv DeVoe's 'Poison'.

Looking through the song selections, they all begin writing, Garth making 'gimme' motions whenever a pencil stops moving, taking the completed slips and apparently putting them in some sort of order without missing a word of his song. Everyone applauds when he finishes; he's done a good job, dorky song notwithstanding.

"Thanks everyone! We're off to a good start! Ok, let's have Pamela up here. Gonna sing a little Manfred Mann for us," Garth grins. 

Unlike the other karaoke guy, Garth has a large white screen standing against the back wall and as the music starts up a projector shows a live feed of Pamela on the screen, words for the song appearing a verse at a time, superimposed over the image. Pamela starts singing 'Blinded by the Light', her voice a bit lower than the original version, but still fitting the music. She does a pretty good job with it and everyone claps as she comes back to the table.

"Interesting choice of song," Gabe says as she sits beside him.

Pamela grins. "Yeah, I just love watching everyone's face when they realize they've been singing 'wrapped up like a douche' their whole lives when the line is actually 'revved up like a deuce'."

"Yeah, but the line still doesn't make any sense," Sam joins in. "Revved up like a two?"

Dean and Pamela both crack up at the same time.

"What? What's so funny?" Sam frowns.

"A deuce is a '32 Ford coupe, the deuce is for the 2 in the year it was made," Dean informs, grinning down the table at Pamela.

"Of course. Old cars. Maybe Pamela and I should switch seats so the two of you can get your greaser geek on?" Sam replies with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey, we can talk cars later all you want, hot stuff," Pamela says to Dean, “but it looks like your beau's about to sing and I wanna hear this."

"Damn right you do!" Dean says, eyes gluing themselves to Cas on the stage. He feels slightly guilty that he hadn't heard Cas called up or noticed when his boyfriend left his side. But Cas gives him an apologetic smile as the music starts up, as though he's sorry for having left in the middle of an interesting conversation. Which is unbelievable; or it would be if it wasn't so Cas. Love makes Dean’s face glow with rapt attention as his boyfriend starts singing a song he's never heard before. Gordon Lightfoot, he knows; Sundown, Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, If You Could Read My Mind. Not his usual type of rock, though they’re songs that are good for singing. But the folk-ballad Cas does is one he's never heard called 'The House You Live In'. Basically, a bunch of random advice culminating in the repeated 'the house you live in will never fall down if you pity the stranger who stands at your gate/door'. Dean decides he likes it, especially in Cas's beautiful voice. Cheering loudly as Cas comes back to his seat, Dean places his hand palm up on the table and grins when his boyfriend acknowledges the gesture by twining their fingers together and squeezing.

“So, next up we have Charlie. It’s kinda funny, I picked up a bunch of Jonathan Coulton songs ‘cause my cousin wanted them but they turned out to be more popular than I expected. Especially ‘Re: Your Brains’, ‘Want You Gone’, and this one yer about to hear,” Garth says as Charlie goes up to the mic and picks it up, making sure it’s turned on.

“I wanted to sing ‘Do You Wanna Date My Avatar’ from The Guild, but you don’t have that one. Still, kudos on the JoCo, way cool!” Charlie says into the mic, holding up a fist for Garth to bump as the music to ‘Still Alive’ starts up.

One bouncy Portal ending song with lyrics much darker than the music later, Charlie comes back to the table, giving Dean a high five as he heads up to sing. The beat picks up a bit as Dean does a great job with Bon Jovi’s ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’. Everyone gets into it, singing along on the chorus and when Dean goes back to the table he’s sweating despite the air conditioning.

“Ok, we’re gonna keep the energy going, let’s get Gabe up here for some classic Rod Stewart!” Garth announces.

Gabe goes up and grabs the cordless mic as ’Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?’ starts playing, making a mental note that the cordless mic is another benefit over the old karaoke guy. Having fun with the song, when the first chorus comes up he sashays over to Sam, singing to him and dancing suggestively before grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his seat. Blushing up to his ears, Sam lets Gabe pull him to the stage area, dancing gamely with the shorter man and laughing when Gabe tries to twirl him around and he has to duck down to go under their arms. By the end of the song, everyone is laughing, wolf whistling, and cheering. Sam’s still red as a beet but the glow of happiness coming from Gabe is more than worth a bit of embarrassment among friends.

Next up is Cas again (since he’d put in more song requests than anyone else), with “American Pie’ by Don McLean, the full 8.5 minute version. Of course he sings it beautifully, and everyone joins in on the choruses. 

“Everyone having fun?” Garth asks as Cas heads back to his seat among cheers and applause. Of course, the cheering gets louder. “Alright! That’s what I like to hear! Now don’t be shy, we’ve still got plenty of time so go ahead and put in a second or third request if you want! Gonna slow things down a bit with some sultry Alannah Myles from Meg. Come on up here Meg!”

Slinking up to the stage, Meg takes the mic with a smirk, saying, “Oh, I can do sultry _much_ better than Alannah Myles,” and winking at Garth, who grins, blushing just a bit. Then Meg proceeds to prove it with her rendition of ‘Black Velvet’. Charlie, of course, videos the whole song on her phone, because ‘pictures or it didn’t happen’. And really, it’s almost as hot as some of the other videos she has of Meg, but this one she can actually let other people see.

Next up is Asa with ‘Fox on the run’ by Sweet. He does a good job with it, and when Pamela comes up to sing next, she pulls Asa back up to the stage to sing the Grateful Dead’s ‘Casey Jones’ with her. After that Cas is up again singing ‘Something to Believe In’ by Poison. Then Dean sings ‘Blaze of Glory’ by Bon Jovi followed by Gabe singing ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ by the Rolling Stones.

As Gabe goes back to the table, Garth announces a fifteen minute break, so folks can talk and refresh their drinks without missing any of their friends singing. He queues up a few songs to play quietly in the background, then heads over to the table. “How’m I doin’ so far?” he asks Gabe.

“Job’s yours if you want it, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. And if you’d be okay hosting the Open Mic night and letting us use your sound system on Wednesdays too, that’d be great. There’s plenty of space in the store room if you want to leave your equipment here through the week.”

“That sounds sweet. You’ve got some really good energy going in your place. I like it. My only worry, really, is if I’ll be bringing you enough business to cover my fees. Wouldn’t be right, you losin’ money to pay me,” Garth says.

“I make more than enough extra money on the weekend karaoke to cover adding Tuesday through Thursday, and I’m sure it’ll be slow at first, but I think it’ll pick up within a few months, especially once the fall semester starts. I tend to get a pretty steady influx of customers from the university,” Gabe replies, hand trailing absently over Sam’s thigh under the table, though his attention is on Garth. “If you’re on board, we can do a contract for six months and after that see how it’s going? If we both like the arrangement we can switch to a year by year contract or longer or shorter, whatever works best?”

“By contract you mean somethin’ written out on paper and signed and stuff?” Garth asks.

“Of course. Same as with the last karaoke guy.”

“I don’t need none of that, just a handshake’s good enough for me. Had a good feeling about you since the first time I came in here,” Garth assures, sticking out his hand.

Gabe shakes the offered hand. “How about we do both? I’m good with a handshake; you’re a good guy, I can already tell. But my brothers co-own the bar with me and they’ll need everything spelled out on paper. And I want to make sure Luke doesn’t have any loopholes he can get his hooks in. He’s my brother and I love him, but he’s all about the money which isn’t really the point of this place. I got this bar because I wanted a place where people could gather, enjoy themselves, find a friendly ear -or bed- when they needed one. Which is why Michael helped me with the legal stuff, making sure that as long as we’re in the black, none of my brothers have any say in the running of the bar. So a contract is necessary if only to make sure Luke can’t try to fire you or anything if it takes a while for the weekdays to pick up.”

“I already told you I don’t want you losing money to pay me,” Garth frowns.

“And like I said, I make more than enough on the weekends to cover you, but if Luke decides to be a devil about the details, he could technically go by day or month rather than quarterly as we’ve been doing for profit reviews. If you don’t want to bother with lawyers, that’s fine. Sam was pre-law; I bet he could whip up something we’ll both be happy with that Luke won’t find loopholes in.”

Beside him, Sam blushes, and not just from the hand that’s still on his thigh. “Pre-law, Gabe. I’m not qualified to write up a contract.”

“Hey, you’re one of the brightest guys I know, Samshine. I’m sure you can help us iron something out.”

“Samshine?” Dean interrupts with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” Sam retorts, giving his brother’s shoulder a shove.

“No problem, _Samshine_. Won’t say another word,” Dean grins.

Sam rolls his eyes and turns back to Gabe and Garth. “I can try writing something up with you, but you should have a real lawyer look it over too, just to make sure I don’t miss anything.”

“Umm, Gabe,” Cas interjects quietly. Gabe leans around Sam and Dean to give his attention. “I’m an accountant. If you want, I can look over your books, find other ways to increase your revenue. For instance, maybe a vending machine with salty snacks over in the rarely-used corner by the jukebox? Not only would you get money from the snacks sold, but the salt will make people thirstier, so they’ll drink more. In addition to that, people might pay more attention to the jukebox if they have to go past it for snacks. You’d have to turn it off during karaoke, but Sunday and Monday nights, and the times before and after the live entertainment, it might get some actual use.”

“That’s not a bad idea, now that I’ll have an employee to clean up the crumbs and wrappers. As for the books, I usually balance them myself, then Michael goes over them quarterly and fixes my mistakes. But if you’re offering, yeah, maybe you can help me figure out better ways to do the bookkeeping so I don’t make as many mistakes. Not sure how much I can pay you though,” Gabe replies.

“Oh, no, I can’t let you pay me. You’re family,” Cas blushes.

“Family?”

“Because Cas and I are together, and Sam’s my brother, and you and Sam are together. That makes you family,” Dean explains before Cas can beat himself up for thinking he said the wrong thing.

“Oh, of course. Makes sense. Sure, I’d really appreciate your help. And since you’re family, no charge on pop or drafts. That goes for you too, Dean.”

Cas opens his mouth to argue, but Dean shakes his head minutely, saying, “Thanks, Gabe. You know, anything you need, any time, we’re there, right?”

“Great. My Vette could use a wax,” Gabe teases with a wide grin. “Kidding, of course. Though I wouldn’t say no to some help with spring cleaning next year. Our house is a bit big for two people to give a thorough scrub down.”

Charlie disentangles herself from Meg long enough to quip, “Hey, if you want more hands, Meg and I can come too, if you help with our spring cleaning in exchange.”

“Hey, I’m pretty good with cleaning too, be glad to help,” Garth adds.

“Woah, woah, we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves. We’re supposed to be partying, not planning cleaning dates over half a year in advance,” Gabe laughs. “Who needs a refill?”

“I wouldn’t say no to another soda,” Garth replies, handing his empty glass to Gabe, since that was actually part of the reason he had an intermission anyway. “Gonna hit the head, then once everyone’s drinks are full we’ll have some more singing.”

“Hey, babe? Sorry about the Samshine back there, it just kinda slipped out,” Gabe says once he and Sam are alone behind the bar getting drinks.

Sam shrugs. “I don’t mind, really. It’s kind of flattering that you have more than one nick for me with my name in it. You don’t really do that for anyone else, right?”

“Nope, usually just one nick and a real name once I learn it.”

“Got any others for me?” Sam asks, curious.

“Sure, I’m always thinking of new ones. Samtastic for when you’re being more amazing than usual, Samwise on the rare occasions you let your geek show, Redwood when you’re being taller than Samsquatch,” Gabe starts listing.

“Wait, how can I be taller than I am?” Sam interrupts.

Gabe shrugs. “It’s usually when my neck is sore from looking up at you or when I want to kiss you and can’t reach,” he grins.

Since Gabe has finished pouring drinks, Sam snatches him up, arms around the shorter man’s waist and hoists him up until their lips are level, grinning as he gives Gabe a quick kiss. “Height differences can be solved. All you gotta do is ask.”

Gabe kisses back, and there’s nothing quick about it. In fact, it doesn’t end until he hears Charlie clear her throat loudly, after which he breaks off with a groan. “Like you’re one to talk,” he chuckles as Sam sets him back on his feet.

“Hey, not here to break up the make-out session, but we’re all waiting on drinks over there and Garth’s getting antsy to get the singing going.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Gabe grumbles, though he’s still smiling. “We’re finishing that when we get home tonight,” he adds to Sam, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Wow, gonna wait that long?” Sam laughs. “I figured you’d kick everyone out soon as the party was over, so we’d have time to continue before we have to open the bar.”

“Oooh, that’s an even better idea. Let’s do that,” Gabe grins, doing that salacious thing with his tongue that always seems to make Sam’s jeans a bit tighter.

“We’re not kicking our friends out. Besides, if you wait ‘til after work, we’ll have all night.”

“Spoilsport. Fine, but I’m holding you to that; we’re going to watch the sunrise together,” Gabe grouses as they reach the table and begin handing out drinks.

“Speaking of Sam being a spoilsport, why haven’t you sung yet?” Dean comments.

“Hey, that’s right. House rules, everyone has to sing at least once,” Gabe adds.

“I’m no good at singing, especially in front of people,” Sam hedges.

“It’s not in front of people today, it’s in front of friends,” Gabe asserts. “Now go put something in.”

“At least this time you get to pick your own song. But if you don’t, we’ll pick for you just like every other time,” Dean points out.

“Fine, I get it,” Sam grumbles, pulling a book over to look through the music.

“Ok, bit longer of a break than I meant to do, but we’ve still got an hour left, so how ‘bout we get Cas on up here to sing us something from Sir Elton John,” Garth announces.

Cas heads up to the mic, picking it up and commenting, “Actually, it was just Elton John when he recorded the song; he didn’t get knighted until 1998.” Then ‘Your Song’ starts up and his angelic voice does it justice.

After Cas is done, Sam goes up and turns in his selection and Garth stops him before he can go back to the table. “Hold on there, kemosabe. Your friends’ve been waiting all afternoon to hear you sing, and they’re not waiting any longer. Go grab the mic.”

Sam shuffles over to the mic stand, picking up the microphone and trying not to drop it. He doesn’t really like singing, but as Dean had pointed out, at least he got to pick out his own song. It’s better than his brother making him sing random stuff. So the music starts up and Sam takes a deep breath and tries not to butcher Tom Petty’s ‘Free Fallin’.”

Charlie sings next, picking up the pace with Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. Then Pamela keeps it going with ‘Refugee’ by Tom Petty. Meg goes after that with Christina Aguilera’s ‘Genie in a Bottle’, after which she and Charlie are back to making out at their end of the table. Asa is up next, showing remarkable restraint by not drooling too openly at Charlie and Meg as he sings Poison’s ‘Nothin’ but a Good Time’. Surprising everyone, Gabe dedicates the song he sings next to Pamela; Paul Simon’s ’50 Ways to Leave Your Lover’.

“Trying to make me jealous?” Sam asks when Gabe gets back to the table.

“Is it working?” Gabe grins.

“It’s not like that,” Pamela says from Gabe’s other side, leaning forward to look at Sam. “Pretty sure that little dedication was because I was the one who suggested the ‘one and done’ rule.

“Really?” Sam asks, looking between them, knowing there must be a story there.

“What can I say, she’s a damn good shrink,” Gabe shrugs, still grinning. “She’s also the one who pointed out to me that people change as they grow and there’s nothing wrong with personal rules changing along with them.”

“Gabe, did you tal-“

“Next up we have Dean regaling us with some Aerosmith,” Garth announces, unknowingly cutting off Sam’s line of questioning.

Dean goes up to sing ‘Angel’, which he dedicates to Cas, who is called up next to sing Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’, dedicated to Dean, of course, with an intense look.

“They say time flies when you’re having fun, but it’s hard to believe it’s really been almost three hours. We have just enough time for one more song, so I’d like everyone who wants, to come up and sing this last one together! Don’t be shy, pretty sure everyone knows this one,” Garth announces.

“Oh, God, please don’t say Piano Man,” Sam grumbles under his breath as Gabe drags him up to the stage before the song even starts. Dean heads up too, grinning at Cas by his side. Meg refuses to go up, so Charlie sticks her tongue out at her then heads up by herself. Pamela has the same problem with Asa, so she heads up alone too as Bob Seger’s ‘Old Time Rock ‘n’ Roll’ starts up. Garth encourages everyone to sing the whole song, not just the chorus, the other three mics split up between pairs. Meg whistles and cheers through the musical interludes, and Asa joins in. When the words finish, everyone cheers and hollers, Charlie jumping around and hugging everyone, even Garth. When she gets back to Pamela, the psychiatrist gives Meg a wink, then dips Charlie toward the back wall, appearing to kiss her.

“Hey, now, I only share if I get to join in,” Meg drawls after hurrying up to the stage, pulling Charlie away from Pamela, dipping her, and kissing her _very_ thoroughly.

“Oh, my Goddess, put me down before you drop me!” Charlie laughs when Meg finally lets her up for air.

“No worries there, unicorn. I’ll never drop you,” Meg purrs, though she still puts Charlie back on her feet.

“Wow, get a room, you two,” Sam teases.

“Good idea,” Meg smirks. “We done here?” she asks Charlie, melding herself against her girlfriend like they’re already alone and naked, though they obviously aren’t either.

“You’re insatiable!” Charlie grins.

“And you love it!” Meg counters.

“Hells yeah, I do!” Charlie chuckles, giving Meg a shove toward the door. “This has been a total blast! Gabe, we’ll make sure to come on the weekdays to help get things rolling. Guess we’re heading out for now, though. Hope to see everyone Tuesday, if not sooner!” she adds to the group as she backs toward the door, Meg grabbing the back of her shirt and pulling her along.

Everyone laughs as Meg drags Charlie backward through the door, then Pamela starts moving the tables back where they go, Asa jumping up to help. Gabe gets a tray from the bar and begins gathering the empty glasses. Sam goes to help Garth pack up his equipment, which he takes out to the flatbed of his old Ford Ranchero Squire, since he’s doing a party for one of his cousins tomorrow. This leaves Cas and Dean alone at the table that was already where it goes.

“Dean… would you like to move in with me?” Cas asks quietly.

“What… aren’t we already practically living together?” Dean asks, wondering what brought this on.

“Yes, but you’re still paying for your apartment. It’s a bit of a waste of money when there’s plenty of room at my place. I mean, I could clear out the office for you to set up in. You know, for when you want your own space, need to be alone.”

“Cas, I keep my apartment so _you_ can have space when you need it. I know change is hard for you, and it’s been a big adjustment letting me into your life. If I got rid of my place you’d start trying to hide it when you need alone time, wouldn’t you?”

“I… I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” Cas admits.

“Why are you bringing this up now, anyway?” Dean queries.

“I… that song you sang, I was thinking about the lyrics. I don’t like you having to sleep alone at your apartment. Your home should be with me,” he replies quietly, blushing.

“Cas, my home has been with you since the moment you agreed to give us a chance, regardless of where my things are kept or where I sleep. That song, I just picked it because you _are_ my angel. I wasn’t really thinking about any of the other lyrics,” Dean assures, taking Cas’s hand in his and squeezing it in gentle reassurance.

“Oh,” Cas frowns, blush deepening.

“But I do want to move in with you, just, not until you’re ready. There’s no rush; we have our whole lives ahead of us. We can take as long as you need with each step for you to get comfortable before moving forward. And I need to know you’ll be able to talk about problems with me, instead of thinking everything’s your fault or I’ll run for the hills if you don’t love every little thing about me, because I won’t. I can tell you that as many times as you want to hear it, but the only way to really show you is with time.”

Cas looks crestfallen, though Dean doubts anyone else would notice the change other than Charlie and she’s already left. “I do believe you, Dean. I trust you. And I don’t want there to be a ‘my place’ and a ‘your place’, I want an ‘our place’.

“I know you trust me, but I also know there’s still a part of you that worries, that will probably always worry. How about this; we’ll make the office my room and I’ll move in a bit at a time, that way when you need space we have the option of a little space, me hanging out in my room for a bit, or a lot of space, me going back to the apartment for a night. Just as a safety net, for while we’re learning how to cohabitate,” Dean suggests, not wanting Cas to be sad or upset over this.

“That sounds… logical,” Cas replies.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dean chuckles. “It may be logical, which is your area of expertise, but it’s also practical, which is what I’m good at.”

“True,” Cas grins. “I really, really love you,” he adds, leaning in to brush his lips lightly over Dean’s. The touch sends a tremor through Cas’s body and he sighs at the spark it ignites. “Take me home?” he asks softly.

“Our home,” Dean smiles, standing and tugging Cas up gently. They slip out while everyone’s busy, not wanting to waste time with goodbyes when there’s a lonely bed waiting for them.

Garth comes back in from packing his equipment, looking around to make sure he didn’t miss anything. “All packed up. You want me back Tuesday or do you want some time to advertise the added days first?” he asks Gabe.

“If you’re available, I’d like you to start this week; I usually just use flyers and word of mouth to advertise, and the word of mouth will spread faster once the customers realize how much fun you are. We can go over the points we want in the contract now, if you have a few minutes, then Sam and I can write it up at home tomorrow, make sure we get the legalese covered and we can go over it Tuesday afternoon, have our lawyers check it over if we want, then get it signed before you start that night. Does 8:00pm to 1:00am Tuesday through Saturday work for you?”

“Hey, Gabe, Asa and I are going to go grab dinner. We’ll be back later tonight. And thanks for inviting us to the party, we had fun,” Pamela interrupts, waiting by the door with her friend.

“Yeah, thanks for coming. Always more fun with you here,” Gabe grins, waving.

“I was thinking about that,” Garth replies, once the door closes. “The time on the weekdays, I mean. People have work and the college kids will have classes, come fall. Maybe for the weekdays we should do 6:00pm to 11:00pm? You don’t serve food, so starting earlier won’t bother the dinner crowd. Friday and Saturday nights can still be 8:00pm to 1:00am.”

“That’s a good point,” Gabe replies, grabbing a pad of paper and pen from behind the bar and jotting down the times. “Now, you said eight dollars an hour, but we’re going to be monopolizing your time, so I think we should pay you at least what the other guy was charging.”

“Actually, I was thinking about that too. You said your brother might interfere with your business if you don’t make profits every day, right? So how about if you just pay me a percentage of the profits each day, then paying me wouldn’t put you in the red. I could put out a tip jar too, and weekends would cover the weekdays without the books ever havin’ a negative balance.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sam says, sitting next to Garth at the bar since he’s finished getting things ready for opening. “Getting tips gets us around the state minimum wage laws too; tipped employees only have to average above minimum wage over the pay period, not daily, and the weekends should put you well above the minimum wage if we work out the right percentage. I bet Cas could help with that,” he adds, looking around for his not-yet-but-someday-brother-in-law. “Where’d he go?”

“Oh, he and Dean left while I was puttin’ my gear in the car,” Garth supplies.

“Never an accountant around when you need one,” Gabe chuckles. “No worries though, we’ll touch base with him tomorrow, have him look over the average profits and figure out what percentage will get you to the right wage.”

“The right wage bein’ eight dollars an hour. I live with family so other than food, phone, and keepin’ my car fueled and runnin’ I don’t have many expenses,” Garth insists.

“You also have to keep your equipment working and buy new songs when they come out; you should be getting fifteen per hour, same as the last guy. Especially since you’ve spent the money already to have better equipment, more song selections, more mics, and on top of that you’re a lot more likeable. I couldn’t live with myself if I paid you less than that ass,” Gabe asserts.

“But I’ll be getting tips too,” Garth points out.

“Probably not that many though,” Gabe counters. “At least not to start. Besides, you’re helping me out doing the percentage thing, and the overall wage will vary from week to week. It could wind up being less.”

“Or more.”

“If you attract more business, in which case you’d deserve more. Please, I insist. We’ll figure out a percentage that will get you approximately fifteen per hour based on the last two months of business and I won’t hear another word about it,” Gabe declares, jotting the info down on his sheet. “Now, as for days off, of course you have Sunday and Monday off every week, but there are bound to be times when you have something you need to do, or you need a sick day. Do you have someone else who can fill in for you, or would you be comfortable teaching me or Sam how to use the equipment, so we can cover if you need time off?”

“I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t get sick much and my family usually does their parties on Sundays or Mondays. But there are always unexpected things that crop up from time to time. If one or both of you wanna learn how to set up and run things, I’d be glad to show ya the ropes,” Garth grins. 

The gangly man always seems to have a somewhat goofy smile on his face but it’s sweet and friendly and Gabe is very glad he decided to give him a shot, because he thinks this will work out better than he could have hoped. Once he’s written the info on time off down, they go over a few other points while Garth fills out a w-2 for the government. Sam opens the bar up while they’re still going over things, and when he comes back to his seat Gabe shows him his notes and asks if there’s anything he’s overlooked. Other than making sure the insurance will cover Garth’s equipment when it’s stored at the bar, and severance details, everything’s good so they add those things in after a bit more discussion, then Garth heads out.

“I think he’s gonna be a really good fit,” Sam comments after Garth’s gone, giving Gabe a warm smile.

“Me too,” Gabe replies, hand that had been tracing absently over Sam’s grabbing and pulling the taller man closer so they can kiss across the bar. “I’m so glad we’re together,” he says in a rare bout of seriousness. “Since you moved in, my life is nothing but Samshine and roses.”

“And work,” Sam chuckles as he hears a customer come through the door.

“Doesn’t feel like work as long as you’re here,” Gabe smiles as he goes to take care of the customer and Sam pulls out his laptop to look up information on vending machines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of smut, but hopefully the sweet flirting and tons of fun make up for it. No? Well, I’ll have to make up for it by starting part II of this timestamp with some steamy stuff :D
> 
> This particular timestamp is only two weeks after the end of the main story, however, I have 10 more which I plan to write in chronological order, but the amount of time between them will vary. For example, in Working for the Weekend parts I&II, it’s the last week of June. The next timestamp, Take Me Home, Country Road, starts on Labor Day and ends sometime in October, I think. The one following that is in September, happening concurrently (though I might switch the order of those two, not sure yet), and the one after that is on/around Halloween. Fifth one is the next summer, sixth is the following spring, seventh is shortly after, etc. so yeah, I plan to cover a lot of years, but just highlights, some of which will take multiple chapters.
> 
> questions, comments, corrections and suggestions always appreciated and encouraged :D
> 
> almost forgot: I made up a [Heavenly Body Karaoke Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLgXJ85KwZVWumf0mpWezPWlXnrS96FGVL) which includes all the karaoke songs from this series from previous chapters through this one :D
> 
> sheesh, thought i'd proofed properly but I read through again last night and found missed quotes around song names and a couple spots that had slipped into past tense >.< so, this is the reproofed proofed version now :D


	2. Working for the Weekend part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As Gabe kisses and nips his way lower, he slips a finger between flesh and towel, sliding from hip to hip under the low-hanging cloth without pulling it open yet. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he growls against Sam’s abdomen. “I had all these ideas of what I wanted to do to you tonight and you walk out of the bathroom looking like a cover photo for Playgirl, and my brain just shuts down. Whatever shall I do with you?” he teases, sitting back to slide his finger under the towel back to the other hip, then to the center before tugging lightly and watching as the cloth slowly comes uncinched, sliding down Sam’s hips to pool on the bed and revealing a firm, twitching cock._   
>  _“Actually,” Sam says, clearing his throat and licking his lips nervously, “I may have had a thought about that…”_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Pairings:** Gabriel/Sam Winchester (focus), Dean Winchester/Castiel, Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters
> 
>  **Chapter Characters:** Gabriel, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Charlie Bradbury, Meg Masters, Bobby Singer, Jo Harvelle, Ash Harvelle (adopted), Pamela Barns, Garth Fitzgerald, Chuck Shurley
> 
>  **Chapter Tags:** Sabriel, AU-modern setting, open mic night, Switch!Sam, Switch!Gabriel, anal sex, NSFW

“Man, slow nights are so boring,” Sam complains as he removes his shoes, placing them under the table by the door.

“Much less so with you there, though,” Gabe grins, placing his shoes beside Sam’s. “And besides, at least we’re not worn out after a long day.”

“Yet,” Sam grins over his shoulder at Gabe as he heads up the stairs and disappears through the door on the left.

Taking his time following, Gabe hears the shower in the master bath running as he enters their room. With a devilish grin of his own, he strips, dashes to the guest bathroom next to Sam’s room, takes a quick, 3 minute shower just to clean off his body, then dries himself quickly as he heads back to the master bedroom to prop his freshly washed, naked body against the pillows, hands behind his head and feet crossed, a picture of languid patience as he waits for Sam to emerge. Eyes closed, he imagines all the ways he could make his lover moan for him, cock twitching to half-mast during the long minutes it takes for Sam to finish his shower. When Sam finally comes out, Gabe’s eyes open and every thought he’d had drains from his head at the sight of his lover’s broad shoulders, firm chest and abs, navel, and the white towel hanging low over his hips allowing just a glimpse of coarse brown hair above where the towel is folded closed. It takes a full minute before he’s able to snap his jaw shut and swallow past the lump of pure desire that’s formed in his throat.

“See something you like?” Sam asks, the slight tremor of nerves in his voice belying his bravado.

Unable to look anywhere but at the god standing in the middle of his bedroom, Gabe shakes his head. “Way more than like. Love. Desire. Need. Get over here and let me worship you like the god you are,” he asserts, moving to sit on his knees as he beckons his Adonis over.

Smiling over his blush, Sam comes to the bed, walking on his knees to meet Gabe in the center of the bed. He goes to remove his towel, but the shorter man stops him, grinning.

“Let me,” Gabe breathes, tracing over the planes of the broad chest in front of him as he leans in to take a nipple in his teeth, running back and forth over the hardening nub as his hands enjoy the feeling of firm, smooth, shower-warmed flesh.

“Gabe,” Sam gasps as the sensations send heat searing through his body. Hands resting on the smaller man’s shoulders to hold himself steady, Sam whimpers as the attention moves to his other nipple and he can feel Gabe’s grin against his chest.

As Gabe kisses and nips his way lower, he slips a finger between flesh and towel, sliding from hip to hip under the low-hanging cloth without pulling it open yet. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he growls against Sam’s abdomen. “I had all these ideas of what I wanted to do to you tonight and you walk out of the bathroom looking like a cover photo for Playgirl, and my brain just shuts down. Whatever shall I do with you?” he teases, sitting back to slide his finger under the towel back to the other hip, then to the center before tugging lightly and watching as the cloth slowly comes uncinched, sliding down Sam’s hips to pool on the bed and revealing a firm, twitching cock.

“Actually,” Sam says, clearing his throat and licking his lips nervously, “I may have had a thought about that…”

“Oh?” Gabe asks, tracing a finger lightly up the underside of Sam’s arousal. “Do tell.”

“I, um… I thought maybe… that maybe tonight…” Sam stammers as Gabe’s gaze comes up to meet his questioningly. He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I know you’ve been wanting, and it’s something you need, and it’s not just because it’s what you want but you’ve made me curious and I know you’ll be… you’ll make sure it’s good, so, you know, if you want, I think I’m ready to try…”

“Sam,” Gabe breathes in wonder, sitting back on his heels and looking up at his lover like a dog whose master is about to open the treat cupboard, “are you offering to let me top?”

Sam nods, afraid if he says anything else he’ll lose what little courage he’s got and retract the offer. Not that the offer isn’t genuine; it is. Very much. The way Gabe enjoys being fucked, whether it’s hard and frenzied or slow and tender, the way he can come without even being touched… Sam knows Gabe’s had years of practice getting to that level of sensitivity, but he wants to be able to feel that. And that will never happen if he doesn’t take the first step. But at the same time, he’s tried fingering himself with soap in the shower a few times, including the shower he took tonight since he wanted to be properly clean for Gabe, and it hasn’t felt anything but uncomfortable. Nothing at all like when Gabe stimulates his prostate. Gabe has far more experience and Sam knows he’ll make it good but there’s still a part of him that’s a bit scared.

Scooting closer, Gabe places a hand over Sam’s cheek, examining his face intently. “Sam, I know you said you’re not doing this just for me, but you don’t really look like you’re ready. I want it. Damn do I want it. But if we try before you’re ready and fear makes you tense up, it’ll hurt and you’ll hate it and never let my cock near your ass again and I sure as hell don’t want that.”

Shaking his head, Sam says, “I want this. I’m nervous, sure, but I also trust you. I know you can help me relax, and if the time comes and you still think I’m too tense, you can call it off and I’ll let you fuck my mouth instead. But I at least want to try.”

Gabe is half-tempted to say Sam’s too tense regardless, because in the past two weeks his B+ first blow job has quickly evolved into an A+. With extra credit to boot. But the thought of being inside him, of struggling to keep himself in check while gripped tightly in that virgin heat… when Sam had been in California finishing the spring semester, Gabe had spent many a sleepless night jacking off to the thought. Among plenty of other fantasies starring the tall, gorgeous, sweet man of his dreams. Over the past two weeks he’s had the opportunity to act out many of those other fantasies, but this one… “Lay on your stomach,” he commands. Sam looks puzzled but does as instructed. After grabbing the lube and a condom and laying them in easy reach on the bed while the taller man gets settled, Gabe straddles his lower back and shows off his talent at massage. Starting at Sam’s neck, he rubs and kneads tense muscles into putty, eliciting soft hums of contentment as he slowly works his way down over shoulders, arms, back, thighs, calves, ass, taking his time to make sure each part of Sam’s body is relaxed before moving on. As his hands work on that firm ass, his mouth turns its attention to Sam’s lower back, kissing, licking, and nipping over the warm, smooth flesh. By the time he pulls away, Sam is moaning softly. 

Giving a light smack on the taller man’s ass, he says, “Turn over.” The front of the body revealed to him is even more breath-taking, mouth-watering than the back. Grinning, Gabe cracks his fingers and shakes his hands to loosen them back up, then returns to the massage. This time, while his fingers are busy loosening pectorals and biceps, his lips capture Sam’s, tongues pushing past to explore languidly. His lower thigh rubs rhythmically against Sam’s half-hard length, gradually bringing it back to attention as he enjoys stoking the fire in his lover’s body.

“Nngh, Gabe,” Sam breathes against the smaller man’s lips as the building desire grows more needy.

He could listen to that voice all night, but he’s too eager to hear how it will change with the new experience, so he kisses his way to Sam’s ear, breathing, “Sam, you have no idea how very, very much this means to me, and I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll never come back down.” Drinking in another moan, he grins as his lips trail over heated flesh, slowly wending their way down to the hard cock that drives him wild every night. Not this night though. Tonight, the tables are turned and his own dick twitches and firms at the thought. Reaching blindly for the lube as he tongues over Sam’s head, pressing into the slit on top and enjoying the scent of strawberry and male coming off his lover (who must have used Gabe’s soap in the shower), he finds the tube and flicks the cap open, squeezing some onto his fingers and rubbing them together to warm the viscous fluid. As he swallows Sam’s length to the base, he slowly slides a finger in, easily finding and pressing against the prostate, enjoying the gasp of pleasure and twitch of hips as Sam struggles not to thrust up into Gabe’s mouth. They’ve done this much before and his lover is more than comfortable with it; he loves it. The second finger joins swiftly, scissoring and thrusting as his lips move up over Sam’s cock, tongue pressing along the underside, wriggling side to side as he goes and adding a higher, pleading note to the taller man’s moans. It doesn’t take long to bring Sam to the edge, where he leaves him; mouth pulling off and fingers stilling.

“Gabe,” Sam pleads, whimpering at the loss of sensation.

“No worries, babe, we have all night,” he purrs, grinning up at his lover whose eyes are closed, body twitching with frustration. Kissing over Sam’s abdomen, careful not to give any attention to the erection that’s slowly easing back from the edge of orgasm, Gabe finds the juncture between thigh and groin and sucks a hickey there as he feels the ring of muscle around his fingers gradually relax. Distracting Sam’s senses with his mouth, Gabe slips a third finger into the tight heat. Though Sam’s breath hitches at the intrusion, there’s no indication of pain or discomfort so Gabe returns his attention to his lover’s cock, teasing, licking, sucking as his fingers thrust and stretch, occasionally twisting to brush against the prostate. It isn’t long before Sam’s dick is twitching with eminent release again, at which point Gabe ceases his ministrations. The whimper is louder this time, but Gabe isn’t going to be rushed. He’s pretty sure all thought of where this is leading has fled Sam’s mind, but Gabe remembers, and he’s literally aching to get there. But not yet. First he’s going to bring Sam to the edge over and over until he can’t take it anymore and begs Gabe to let him come. Which he does, only relenting when Sam is crying with need, unable to think of anything beyond his desperation for release. “It’s ok, I’ve got you babe. Last time, I promise,” Gabe murmurs soothingly as he fumbles the condom on and slicks it with lube one-handed, the other still three fingers deep inside Sam as he waits for his lover to come back from the edge. Though Sam’s body is tense with need, the ring of muscle around Gabe’s fingers is lax, throbbing with desire as he slowly slides the digits out, pressing his head against the opening and easily sliding past.

“Oh, God, Gabe,” Sam moans as the thick, throbbing length slowly presses into him, so gentle, so gradual, so achingly slow. Staring in wonder at his lover with half-lidded eyes clouded with passion, Sam’s numb brain is overcome with the need to be filled. Without a thought, he wraps his long legs around Gabe’s waist and pulls, driving the thick cock into his heat until Gabe bottoms out. “Oh! Fuck! That-“

Sam doesn’t tense, but Gabe does. “Shit. Sam, sorry, are you ok?”

“Fuck ‘ok’, I’m amazing. I didn’t know it would… Fuck! So good!” Sam pants, grinding and rocking against the hot flesh buried inside him.

Since Sam’s not taking the time to adjust to the stretch, Gabe takes his cue and begins thrusting, slow and shallow at first but gaining speed and force as Sam urges him on. He’s spent months dreaming of this moment and it’s better than he ever imagined it could be. His lover isn’t just ok with it, he’s begging for it, crying out in ecstasy with every thrust as Gabe pounds into him, striking the prostate over and over. Though priding himself on his control, Gabe’s already struggling to hold back release, drinking in the way Sam’s head is thrown back against the pillow, large hands twisting in the comforter as he urges Gabe on shamelessly. Before he knows it he’s on the edge, barely holding off. “Sam,” he groans, hand going to his lover’s cock and stroking, “you’re so amazing. Come for me.” And he does, before the words are even fully out, thrusting down hard onto Gabe’s cock, tightening around him as he paints his stomach and chest with white. Gabe’s right there with him, the deep thrust and tightness ripping his own orgasm from him as he cries out Sam’s name over and over. When he’s finally able to drift back into his body and return to his senses, Gabe finds himself poised over Sam, spent cock still enveloped in warmth, his lover boneless beneath him, arms spread, fingers lightly tangled in the blanket, eyes closed. He can’t tell if Sam is blissed out or passed out, but his chest is rising and falling with slow, easy breaths so at least he didn’t accidentally fuck him to death. Though when Sam wakes Gabe’s sure he’s the one whose life is going to be in danger. After that mother of a first time, Sam’s sure to be sore for a week, maybe more. Hopefully he’ll remember how good it felt longer than the ache lasts.

Personally, Gabe’s body feels tired and shaky and so _very_ satisfied, but his brain is prodding at him to take care of his lover, so he regretfully pulls out, whimpering slightly at the movement against his spent cock. Making his trembling way to the bathroom, he gets rid of the condom while the water in the sink runs till it’s on the hot side of warm. Wetting a washcloth, he brings it back to gently clean the evidence of his love’s pleasure from his stomach and chest. He’s about to toss the cloth toward the bathroom floor when his brain catches up with his thoughts. Love. He loves Sam. Of course, he already knew that; has known it since that first night together, back when Sam was on spring break. But he’s been dancing around the word in his mind, knowing neither of them was ready to think about that, let alone admit it. Quietly getting up, he goes back to the bathroom and rinses the washcloth before hanging it over the side of the hamper. Grabbing a big, light blanket, he turns the lights off then climbs back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over Sam and himself as he settles against his lover’s side, head resting softly on the taller man’s chest, listening to the strong heart beating there. He’s never needed a name for what he feels for Sam; no one word could contain all the emotions. Love, friendship, comfort, tenderness, pleasure, happiness, need, everything; Sam. Ok, so there is one word that covers everything, but he can’t say ‘Sam, I Sam you’. The thought makes him chuckle and he feels strong arms wrap around him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs.

“I don’t think I was asleep,” Sam rasps, voice hoarse. Gabe has that effect on him.

“Are you saying you’ve been passed out for fifteen minutes?”

“Is that how long it’s been? Holy fuck. That was just… fuck. Is it always that…”

“Intense?” Gabe supplies and Sam nods. “Not always, no. But it is always good. For me, at least. But that was way more… vigorous than I’d planned. You’re gonna be sore tomorrow, especially considering that was your first time.”

Sam laughs. “I’m sore now. But in a good way. Besides, I’m the one who pushed you into the, um… vigor.”

“Yeah, but I teased you too long. I’m the one with more experience, I should have anticipated your reaction,” Gabe replies, watching his own finger as it traces absently over Sam’s chest.

“Hey, did you leave a light on?” Sam asks, seemingly out of the blue.

“No, why?” Gabe replies, hearing the rustle of Sam’s hair over the pillow.

“Holy shit,” Sam chuckles.

“What?”

Sam tilts Gabe’s head so that the window enters his line of view. “We really are seeing the sunrise together.”

“Well, it’s summer. Sun wakes up early,” Gabe grins.

“Still, it’s been hours since we got home. I’m thinking I’m not the only one who’s gonna be sore.”

“Hey, you spent at least 20 minutes of that time in the shower. Besides, _so_ worth it,” Gabe replies with a contented sigh. It’s true he’s a bit sore, and once the endorphin high wears off he knows his hands will be complaining after the lengthy massage he gave. Even so, he stands by the statement; worth it. Sam is quiet, watching the sunrise, and Gabe lets his eyes drift close, enjoying the light rub of Sam’s large hand over his back. As sleep slowly steals over him, he thinks _Sam you_ with a small smile, snuggling closer against his lover.

 

*****

Sam wakes to the sound of ‘shave and a haircut’ being tapped out with a heel on the drywall next to the doorframe. He opens his eyes to see Gabe holding a tray, on which is the biggest pile of strawberry and whipped cream-topped waffles he’s ever seen. “Gabe, what-“

“Brought you breakfast in bed,” Gabe smiles, coming to the bed as Sam sits up and scoots back against the pillows with a slight wince.

“That’s… um… so nice of you,” Sam says, forcing a smile onto his face at the pile of diabetes with a side of heart attack his lover was kind enough to make and bring to him.

Gabe settles the tray over Sam’s lap with a grin, taking the plate of waffles away to reveal the egg white omelette with cheese and broccoli, and a side of potatoes fried with onions and spinach that had been hidden behind it. “Thought we both deserved breakfast in bed after last night.”

“Thanks! This looks great,” Sam smiles, this time genuinely, voice much more enthusiastic. They both dig in, enjoying the meal. “Um… speaking of last night…” Sam starts between bites.

“I’m sorry I let myself get carried away. I know what hearing you beg for release does to my restraint; I should have been more careful,” Gabe apologizes around a mouthful of sugary bliss.

“Actually, if you had let me finish, I was going to say it was fucking amazing. And then I was gonna apologize again for not being able to hold back. I don’t think I could handle that every night, but I’d definitely be up for trying it again. Maybe not right away though,” he grins.

Gabe mirrors the expression. “I’ve never seen anyone like that on their first time. Part of me was worried we’d start arguing about who gets to bottom,” he chuckles.

“No worries there, Gabe. It was phenomenal, but I’m good with topping. Besides, you’re a lot more talkative when you bottom and I kinda like you telling me what to do.”

“Oh, do you now?” Gabe smirks. “All kinds of things I can do with that. I’ll keep it in mind for later. For now, though, I vote we keep it vanilla for at least the next few days.”

“Seconded,” Sam laughs as he finishes his breakfast.

 

*****

 

“Welcome to the first ever, Blue Diamond Open Mic Night! My name’s Garth and I’ll be hosting this pow-wow. Looks like we’ve got a full house tonight! Good to see! Now, the mic is open for whatever talent you want to show us; singing, comedy, poetry, short stories, skits, just about anything. The only thing we ask is keep it respectful. Nothing discriminatory or inflammatory. Or pornographic; Meg, that means you too,” Garth teases. “We’re here to share our creativity and be entertained and we don’t want to forget that! So, if you’re talkin’, keep it quiet, and make sure to give your encouragement to the performers here tonight. There are forms and pencils on the tables; if you want your turn at the mic, just fill out a form and bring it up. Everything starts in an hour, at 7 sharp, so fill those forms out and show us what you got!”

After some discussion, they had decided it would be harder to fill five hours on open mic night, so they’d have an hour for submissions then start the mic at 7. With karaoke, they can always trade off singing between Garth, Gabe, and whichever of their friends are around, even Sam if necessary, when there aren’t enough people signing up to sing. Open mic doesn’t give that luxury, since they’d have to play their own music if they were going to sing. Gabe, Dean, Charlie, and Pamela had put the word out to everyone they knew, in addition to putting eye-catching flyers up everywhere they could. Apparently, they’ve done something right, because the bar is packed.

By quarter to seven, Garth is at the bar, going through the submissions. Some of the performers haven’t filled in lengths for their bits, and Garth is calling them up one by one to get at least a rough estimate of how long their acts will last so that he can map out the night accurately. Most of the crew (the name Garth has come up for the friends that had attended the audition party) have offered to perform if needed to fill time, though they’ve all insisted that they can do their bits next week or the week after, whenever needed. Even with the first night’s large crowd, the crew is still needed though. The submissions from others add up to about 2.5 hours, leaving 1.5 hours to fill. Garth can eat up some of that time with the introductions and time for changing performers. Still, he adds in Cas, Charlie, Dean (and friends), Meg, and Gabe. It leaves about fifteen minutes free at the end of the night, but he’s sure they’ll figure out something to fill it before then. Warning Cas that he’s going up first, Garth heads back to his system to do a final sound check.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks Gabe as he heads toward the office.

“Spoilers,” Gabe winks.

“Ok, everyone ready to get this show on the road?” Garth asks into the mic at 7pm sharp. The bar erupts in cheers. “Now that’s a good crowd! Let’s keep that enthusiasm up through the night! Please remember, be respectful and keep it to R rating or lower! Gonna start things off with an original song from local accountant, Castiel Novak. Cas, ready to wow us?”

Cas walks up to the mic nervously, Gabe exiting the office with a guitar in hand and following him. Lowering one of the mic stands to pick up the sound from the acoustic guitar, Gabe makes sure the mic’s on, double checks the tuning on his instrument, then nods at Cas, who is holding the main mic in his hand. “This is a song I wrote for Dean. The lyrics and tune are mine, but I don’t play any instruments, so Gabe is going to supply the music. It’s called Mathematical Miracle.” He nods at Gabe, who begins to play, and Cas starts singing after a short intro.

One and one is two,  
and somehow that makes me and you.  
Two plus two is four,  
for the four months that you waited for me.  
Four plus four is eight,  
And this time I won't hesitate.

It's a mathematical miracle you see,  
that one and one makes youuu and me

 

Two times three is six,  
and babe, I gotta get my fix.  
Two times four is eight,  
waking up to you, it feels so great.  
And two times five is ten,  
won't you stay the night again?

It's a mathematical miracle you see,  
that one and one makes youuu and me.

 

In an infinite of causalities,  
conspiring to lead you here to me,  
and even though we've only just begun,  
you fill the missing parts of my equation.

 

One and one is two,  
somehow that makes me and you.  
Two plus two is four,  
for the four months that you waited for me,  
Four plus four is eight,  
this time I won't hesitate.

It’s a mathematical miracle you see,  
that one and one makes youuu and me.

It's a mathematical miracle it's true,  
that everything adds up to me and you.

 

The bar erupts in cheers, and Cas blushes though his face retains its usual neutral expression, aside from a small smile and quiet, “Thank you,” into the microphone. After replacing the mic, he heads back to Dean, burying himself against his boyfriend’s chest and letting the comforting arms that wrap around him calm the heightened nerves that singing something he wrote himself had caused. Dean murmurs his thanks and appreciation for the song over and over into Cas’s ear.

“You never told me you could play guitar,” Sam accuses Gabe when he comes back behind the bar.

“You never asked,” Gabe grins. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Didn’t have to ask to know that,” Sam chuckles.

“True, but I was referring to talents outside the bedroom,” Gabe replies.

“Didn’t have to ask to know that either,” Sam laughs, remembering all the other places he’s enjoyed Gabe’s ‘talents’.

“Are we in the twilight zone? Is it opposite day? Since when are you the one making everything lewd when I’m trying to be serious?” Gabe chuckles.

“Since when are you ever serious?” Sam counters.

“Touchè.”

A poetry reading, an acapella quartet, and another original song later, Garth calls Charlie, local IT manager, to the mic to do some stand-up.

Charlie goes up and takes the mic, talking into it as she paces back and forth, grinning, open, and friendly. “Ok, so I’m just gonna tell you a story, because I’ve _got_ to get this off my chest. Feel free to boo me off the stage if it gets too boring.” Small chuckle from the audience. “Let me start off by saying: being a gamer girl is _hard_. A few weeks ago, my best friend’s boyfriend says he’s always liked gaming, so I invite him over to introduce him to my favorite online RPG. So he comes over and we’re in my game room, him on the xbox, me on computer, and he mentions the last time he held a game controller was Nintendo.” Another chuckle or two. “I’m talkin’ the _original_ flippin’ Nintendo.” More chuckles. “So I set him up on my lover, Megadeath’s, rogue ‘cause dps is easy to play and I’m not about to make him spend months leveling a character high enough to play the fun stuff, right? And then I have to go through and explain all the controls and what they do and everything. _Total_ n00b.” A bit more laughter. 

“So I explain to my guild that this n00b is playing my lover Megadeath’s character and we set up some guild PVP -player versus player- so he can get his feet wet. Of course the whole guild goes after him. So, I’m trying to keep him alive and he’s trying to stay outta my way and 40 minutes later the rest of the guild is dead, and he and I are the only ones left standing. Like, go me, I kicked it in the ass, right?” More laughing, along with a bit of color warming Dean’s cheeks. “So then, my n00b friend decides to type right out in guild chat ‘Hah, you all got your asses handed to you by a girl’. Totally outs me to my _entire_ guild, because of course it’s Saturday night and gamer geeks have no life so _everyone’s_ online.” This gets a few half-hearted chuckles and a deeper blush from Dean. 

“So then, guild chat blows up with all the stupid comments like ‘a/s/l’ and ‘get in the kitchen and make me a sammich’ and ‘OMG are you hawt?’. This leads up to the guild leader saying he always suspected I was a girl and that’s why he’s been letting me win for the past five years. Typical male macho bullshit.” Chuckle. “So I said if he knew I was a girl, how come he never told Megadeath? He says he knew we played from the same place and he’d always suspected Megadeath was my boyfriend and he didn’t want him to tell me the guild leader knew I was a girl. Well, what could I say to that? I said, ‘Megadeath is my _girlfriend_ and she’s been handing your ass to you for five years too.” Finally, a full crowd laugh at that. “So then Meg and I had to find a new guild, all because I made the mistake of trying to introduce a n00b to online gaming.” More laughter. “Thanks for letting me vent! You’ve been a great crowd!”

Polite cheers follow her off the stage as she makes her way to the bar for a fresh round of bloody marys for her and Meg. Dean is blushing furiously from his stool next to Cas. Grinning, Charlie takes pity on him, saying, “You know I wasn’t really mad, right? I just thought it was funny enough to share. Seriously, if guys can’t handle girls beating them at their ‘own game’, they don’t deserve to have my l33t skillz in their guild.”

“I still feel bad,” Dean replies. “I had no idea your guild didn’t know you and Meg were girls.”

“Yeah, well, people tend to assume everyone in MMORPGs is a white male between 18 and 40 years old, which is _way_ off. And the fact that Meg and I play male characters just reinforces that. Never lied to anyone about my gender though, just never corrected false assumptions.”

“Hey, if people are gonna make false assumptions they deserve to be misled,” Dean shrugs.

Smiling, Charlie takes the fresh drinks and heads back to her and Meg’s usual booth, where they’ve been hiding out (read as ‘making out’) most of the night.

“Hey, Dean, your guy,” Jo starts as she approaches the bar, nodding at Garth, “says we’ll be up in 20 minutes. Wanna come over to the table and go over lines?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t hurt. Might be better if we rehearse outside though, don’t want to interrupt the performers,” Dean replies. Jo waves the others over while Dean turns to Cas. “You ok by yourself for a few minutes?” he asks.

“Of course. Sam and Gabe are here, and if I get too bored, and possibly suicidal, I can always go interrupt Charlie and Meg,” he deadpans with just the corner of his mouth twitched up.

“Better not interrupt, just to be on the safe side,” Dean grins. “Might be hard for you to write me another song if you let yourself get dead.”

“Getting greedy? One song’s not enough?” Cas teases.

“Guess I could live with just one song, long as you’re still around to sing it to me,” Dean smiles. He offers his hands, and Cas threads their fingers together, pulling him in for a light kiss. “Be back soon,” he says as Ash and Bobby join him and Jo to go outside and rehearse. 

Twenty minutes later, they’re back at their table, Cas sitting next to Dean, when Garth calls them up to the mic. They all bring their chairs up, and each grabs a mic and sits while Garth says, “Dean, Jo, Ash, and Bobby are going to reenact a Monty Python Sketch for us. I think even if you’re familiar with ‘Four Yorkshire Men’, you’ll still get a good laugh!”

They do the sketch without too many noticeable mistakes, and by the time they finish, the crowd is laughing heartily. The comedy continues as the next performer comes up with an electric guitar and does a humorous impression of AC/DC doing the hokey pokey, complete with audience participation.

Near the end of the third hour, Garth introduces Meg, local waitress.

“Everyone loves a good scary story around a campfire; sends chills through your body, chasing away the summer heat. And you can’t beat a classic, so even if you’ve heard this before, think about the words and what they really mean. ‘Cause this is the tale of a man figuratively haunted by a lost love, and literally haunted by a seemingly demonic bird. Once, upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary…” Meg’s low, sulky voice is well suited to reciting the old Poe poem and the bar goes quiet, low hum of soft conversation petering out as everyone is drawn into the tale. “…But, the raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, straight I wh-“

“Oh, my God! Chuck??” Gabe exclaims as a nervous-looking man with messy dark hair and deep blue eyes comes through the door.

“Oh, my God, everyone, it’s Chuck. Hello Chuck,” Meg drawls, drawing more attention to the newcomer, who is now visibly shaking with anxiety. Half the crowd titter, echoing ‘hi Chuck’, the other half cheer loudly.

Gabe rushes to save his old friend from the attention, putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him back to the office, calling over his shoulder to Meg, “Sorry for the interruption, please, carry on.”

“Well, that lightened the mood. Guess I’ll just have to darken it back up,” Meg smirks. “Now, where were we. Oh, right. The part where the mood was actually supposed to lighten a bit. But, the raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door…”

Sam doesn’t hear the rest of the poem, though he’d been paying rapt attention before. He’s too busy staring at the closed office door, wondering who ‘Chuck’ is.

“Worried?” Pamela asks as she lets herself behind the bar.

“Should I be?” Sam deflects, since he can’t honestly deny being apprehensive.

“That’s something you’d have to ask Gabe. I’ll tell you what I know though,” Pamela replies, beckoning Sam away from the door.

“Wouldn’t that be breaking confidentiality laws?” Sam asks, following.

“Nope. It’s not something we’ve ever really talked about, though, to be honest, I did invite Chuck tonight just to see Gabe’s reaction. Apparently, they were best friends throughout high school. That was before I knew them though. We met their first year of college. I was in my third year, getting in as much partying as I could before the dreaded fourth year. Not long after Thanksgiving break, the apartment Gabe and Chuck shared started gaining a reputation as a party pad. I can’t talk about why, but I think you already know?”

“Bad breakup, right?” Sam supplies, not wanting to go into detail on how much he knew about Kali, in case Pamela didn’t actually know and was just fishing for information.

Pamela smiles. “A friend invited me to their New Year’s party, and I met the hosts and became good friends with Gabe. _Very_ good friends” she adds with a wink.

“I really didn’t want to know that,” Sam groans, rubbing a large hand over his face. “So was Chuck also…”

“They slept together often but they weren’t _sleeping_ together. I’m not sure, but I don’t think Gabe had discovered yet, that he liked men. And even if he had, I doubt he would have risked his friendship for sex. Especially not when they discovered that Chuck could cure his insomnia by sharing a couch or bed with him. Sleeping next to other people worked too, but only if they wore each other out first. Chuck was the only one he could just fall asleep with. I’m not really sure what happened between them. All I know is that Chuck went home for spring break and never came back. Hadn’t said a word to Gabe about it, changed his phone number, told his parents not to tell anyone where he was. He’d always been the jittery, high anxiety type but Gabe kept him calm, helped him socialize without fear; not so much took him out of his comfort zone as expanded the zone in which he was comfortable. Chuck taking off hadn’t surprised anyone; taking off without telling Gabe and then breaking contact with him, _that_ was shocking. Without Chuck to help him sleep, Gabe barely made it through the semester and never returned to college after that.”

“Done gossiping about me?” Gabe asks, having come out of the office quietly without either hearing him. “Good,” he says, not waiting for an answer as he grabs Sam’s hand and pulls him toward the office. “Pamela, you can pay for talking behind my back by watching the bar for a few. Thanks,” he adds, head poked around the door, then closes it securely behind him. “So,” Gabe says, turning into the room.

“Gabe, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ Sam starts.

“Hey, no worries babe, she’d have dished whether you wanted her to or not,” Gabe smiles. “I just wanted to introduce you to my oldest friend. Chuck Shurley, Sam Winchester. Sam, Chuck.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam says, holding out his hand, though he’s not sure yet if it’s nice or not. When Chuck shakes the offered hand, Sam can feel him trembling. “Um… I’m not as scary as I look, really,” he adds, trying to put the smaller man at ease.

“Oh, it’s not you, Samsquatch. Chuck’s nervous about pretty much everything. Except flying for some unfathomable reason. Anywho,” Gabe says, pulling a chair next to his own at the desk, seating himself, and patting the chair in a silent request for Sam to sit, “I’m sure you were getting curious out there, and I wanted Chuck to see that I really am happy now, so he can stop apologizing.”

“But, I really am sorry. So sorry. I was only thinking about myself, and-“ Chuck apologizes.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. You were scared; I understand. Hell, I would’ve been scared too if I were in your position,” Gabe interrupts, obviously having heard the apology several times already. Turning to Sam, he explains, “Turns out, Chuck left college ‘cause he’d gotten himself a stalker.”

“It wasn’t _just_ because of that,” Chuck mumbles. “I’d already been planning on quitting even before Becky got dangerous. Finishing out the fall semester almost killed me. I knew I’d never make it through another round of finals.”

“Wait, Becky? Becky Rosen? You never said your stalker was Becky. Cute little nerdy blonde?” Gabe asks.

“Hey, not so little. She was practically taller than me and definitely had more muscle. And she was obsessed. Like, crazy obsessed. Like, if I had a pet I’d come home to find it boiling in a pot, obsessed.”

“No offense, but if I recall, the first time she stayed the night she didn’t even know you existed,” Gabe points out.

“I know,” Chuck groans. “Wasn’t she the reason Pamela suggested you not sleep with anyone more than once unless you were going to be exclusive with them?”

“Hmmyeah. I think you’re right. So how’d she wind up latching onto you?” Gabe asks, hand absentmindedly twining with Sam’s.

“I thought if she met more people she’d find someone new and give up on you. So I took her to Writers’ Night at the Campus Café. Apparently, that was the worst thing I could’ve done. She was into writing all these,” Chuck shudders, “erotic stories. Like, homoerotic. She even had several with you and me, Gabe, like, together.” Chuck shudders again. “I didn’t find that out until later though. After I read a poem at Writers’ Night and she found out I liked writing. By then it was too late. Her focus had shifted to me. I mean, at the start I was flattered. You know I’d never dated much, so when she asked me out I thought ‘sure, why not?’. And at first it was nice; kind of sweet in a way. But the longer we were together, the more her sweetness became smothering. And she’d get so insanely jealous when I went home to sleep; that’s when she showed me her stories, and that was just creepy. Because aside from the sex parts, everything else was actually true, and how closely had she been watching us to be that accurate? I told her you and I weren’t like that, but she didn’t believe me. I didn’t want her to hurt you, Gabe, or me, so when I left, I didn’t tell anyone, other than Pamela.”

“Wait, Pamela knew and didn’t tell me?” Gabe asks incredulously.

“When I talked to her, it was in a professional capacity, even though she hadn’t graduated yet. I swore her to confidentiality. Because, since she and I were barely acquaintances, and you and she were close friends, Becky would never know Pamela was keeping an eye on you for me. I knew Becky would be watching you; I was pretty sure she’d already bugged our apartment and possibly cracked our network. And she knew your password, so she could get into pretty much everything -please tell me you don’t still use ‘lollipop’ for all your passwords-. There was no way to tell you without putting you in danger. She only left you alone because I didn’t contact you.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Gabe sighs, thumb rubbing over Sam’s hand. “But, Chuck, even if our apartment was bugged, we could have talked anywhere. Why didn’t you tell me about her? We could have worked it out together; I would’ve protected you.”

“Sorry, she had ears all over campus; some online writers’ group she was part of, not to mention I had no idea where else she had listening devices hidden. She already saw you as a threat. If I had gone to you, she would have felt the need to eliminate that threat. I couldn’t put you in that kind of danger.”

“Hey, you know you can’t change the past, right?” Sam interjects, squeezing Gabe’s hand. “You can understand why things happened the way they did, or maybe not. But what’s important is moving forward from here.”

“That’s true,” Gabe agrees. “Let’s forget about the past. What brings you here now? Did it take this long for her to give up on you?”

“Not exactly,” Chuck replies. “A few years ago, I ran into Jason Manns. Remember him, from high school?”

“Yeah, choir geek, wasn’t he?”

“Hey, we were choir geeks too,” Chuck counters, defensively.

“ _You_ were a choir geek. _I_ just needed to fill electives,” Gabe grins. “Besides, never said there was anything wrong with being a choir geek. You do you, follow your bliss.”

“Right. Anyway, Jason was in a band, but had been booked for a solo tour so his band was looking for a new singer/guitarist. I was still hiding from Becky, so of course I said no, but Jason suggested the band’s security would keep me safe, and if she tried anything she’d be arrested. It kind of made sense. I mean, I had a restraining order, but was still always looking over my shoulder, and I swear I’d seen her watching me but could never prove it. Having someone paid to keep watch for her made sense. And it worked. Security kept her out of the venues we played and away from studios where we recorded and our apartments. With no access, I thought she’d give up on me, but instead she got desperate. Managed to sneak into the biggest concert we’d ever done, when security was spread thin. Made it all the way onto the stage and pulled out a knife. Said if she couldn’t have me, no one could.” By now, Chuck’s trembling to the point where his chair is clattering against the floor.

“Chuck, it’s ok,” Gabe says, moving quickly around the desk and crouching beside his old friend’s chair, taking his hands in an attempt to soothe him. It seems to be working. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re safe now; that’s what’s important.”

“No, you’re right. I’m safe now, I can talk about this. Besides, I wasn’t the one she hurt. A member of security, Donna Hanscom, had spotted her in the crowd and struggled after her through the throngs. When Becky tried to… to… Donna jumped between us, getting a pretty bad cut on her bicep before she managed to wrench the knife away and immobilize Becky, who got charged with assault and attempted murder. The trial sucked, but she was convicted and sentenced to fifteen to life in a secure facility. Then it was just a matter of building up enough courage to come and see you. Which I still haven’t managed to do, but Pamela suggested tonight would be a good night to show. Brought my guitar,” Chuck finishes with an attempt at a smile and a half-shrug.

“Wait,” Gabe says, getting up and going back to the other side of the desk to lean his hip against Sam’s shoulder, “the packed bar tonight; that your doing?”

With another nervous shrug, Chuck says, “I maaay have mentioned at a small concert we did Monday night that there was a possibility of me showing up here tonight. Don’t worry. Becky aside, the band’s fans are great; always friendly, and respectful of personal boundaries. Thought it might help kick off your open mic nights.”

“Well, it’s true we have more people here than ever, even on the busiest karaoke nights. Almost didn’t have enough performers though. Had to get most of our friends to help out. Huh. Wonder if, when Pamela said she had a secret weapon for her performance, she meant you.”

“I did,” Pamela says as the door swings open to reveal the flirty, overly curious woman holding an empty glass to her ear.

“Eavesdropping? Really?” Gabe tuts.

“Hey, can ya blame me? Three hot guys in one room; who wouldn’t want to listen in?” she grins. “Anyway, I’m sure you two will be up soon; it’s twenty to eleven.”

“R-right,” Chuck stammers, embarrassed, grabbing his guitar case and heading out to sit at the bar.

“Be right there,” Gabe says, closing the door again, then opening it a crack to say “And no more spying, Pamela.”

“You ok?” Sam asks, going over and wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s shoulders.

“Yeah. I just hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed him until he walked through the door. That’s not why I wanted a minute with you though,” Gabe grins, grabbing Sam’s vest near the shoulders and pulling him lower for a deep, warm kiss. “I’m so glad I found you.”

“Me too,” Sam grins, then pulls away reluctantly to grab Gabe’s guitar and hand it to him when Pamela knocks on the door and tells them to get their sweet little asses out there.

Gabe goes up first, letting Garth know that Chuck, from Louden Swain, is going to sing after him, which works out good because Garth hadn’t really wanted to end the night with himself playing the banjo. Gabe plays and sings ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ by Pink Floyd, then Chuck goes up with ‘Dink’s Song (Fare Thee Well)’, an old folk song he likes. After that the crowd goes wild and Garth waits till they’ve quieted enough for him to try to announce the end of the open mic, but the audience isn’t having it. They call for an encore until Gabe and Chuck look at each other, shrug, and head back to the mics to sing and play ‘Take it Easy’, by the Eagles. Afterward, Chuck promises he’ll be back when his schedule allows, guaranteeing open mic nights will remain busy since no one will know when Chuck Shurley might show up. It’s a wonderful night for old friends and new lovers, for fans and artists, for business and fun. And it’s just the first of many such evenings to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The things my brain pops up with: ‘I finally got into Gabe’s head… while Gabe was getting his head into Sam’ hehehe.
> 
> Poor, Becky, I’m sorry I made her into the bad guy, but when Chuck randomly decided to show up, I had to figure out why he’d disappeared without a word back in college and having experience with hiding from a mentally unstable stalker ex myself, that was the first thing that popped into my mind. Originally, I’d been planning to have Chuck happily dating Becky currently, but it just didn’t write itself that way.
> 
> Also, sorry for mixing real people in with the fictional characters. Louden Swain and Jason Manns aren’t in Supernatural, but from what I understand, they’re a big part of the Con experience. I’ve never actually been to a Supernatural convention myself. Also, according to my research (which is not infallible), Jason isn’t and has never been an official member of Louden Swain, just performs with them some at the Cons. Either way, keep in mind that the Jason and Louden Swain in this story are fictional versions, not accurate representations of the people on whom they are based.
> 
> Comments, questions, corrections and suggestions are always very much appreciated and encouraged :D I’m still doing my own proofreading so please, if I’ve overlooked any mistakes, I’d love to be informed so I can fix them :D not that I’m a perfectionist or anything, but… yeah, ok, so I’m sometimes a bit of a perfectionist hehe.
> 
> Performances from open mic night have been added to the [Heavenly Body Karaoke](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tYNRi4S2vs&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWumf0mpWezPWlXnrS96FGVL) playlist. I do have an audio for mathematical miracle that I plan to post and link, but I’m not happy with the recording quality yet so it might take a few days for me to put up.
> 
> update: [Mathematical Miracle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ed-WuTqF0_k) is now up. sorry it's acapella and my own voice, and my first ever try at making a video, but there are cute pics of cas/misha and lyrics, so... yeah. it's there if you're interested.


	3. Take Me Home, Country Road part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Ok,” Dean says, leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on Cas’s forehead. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”_   
>  _“There is,” Cas replies, turning his head so that their lips meet and taking Dean’s hand. “Distract me?”_   
>  _“Gladly,” Dean grins, sliding off his stool and pulling Cas with him toward the bedroom._   
>    
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Characters:** Dean Winchester, Castiel 
> 
> **Chapter Tags:** Destiel, AU-modern setting, anal sex, NSFW

“Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean asks.

“Wrong? Nothing,” Cas replies, wondering why Dean is asking.

“You promised you would tell me when something’s bothering you if we moved in together,” Dean insists.

“Yes? Nothing’s bothering me,” Cas insists.

“Cas,” Dean says, stepping in front of him and gently lifting his chin with a finger until they’re staring into each other’s eyes, “you’re tense, you’re slamming things, and you’re talking in short sentences.”

“I’m n-“ Cas starts to object, then stops, taking stock. His skin feels itchy, his breathing is off, his head hurts (quite a bit; he should have noticed that at least), his neck and shoulders are sore, and he’s been terse and grumpy without even realizing. “Sorry, I think have a headache. I’ll take some ibuprofen.”

From anyone else, that might’ve been an intelligence-insulting brushoff, but Cas is always honest with his responses. Dean asks Cas to sit at the island, then goes and gets ibuprofen from the cupboard, filling Cas’s glass with water and bringing it and the pills over to his boyfriend. “Any idea where the headache came from?” he asks softly. The last time Cas had gotten snippy (not that he’d ever use that term out loud), he had blamed several different symptoms before realizing he was anxious over Dean’s towel hanging where Cas’s hair towel used to hang. Cas had started hanging both of his towels on the same hook so Dean could have the other one. Thankful for all the home repairs he and Sam had done in the many… fixer-uppers Dad had rented in their youth, Dean had offered to install a third hook. After a lot of discussion on symmetry and placement, he wound up buying three new, identical hooks, replacing the tiles that had the old holes in them, making sure the new was indistinguishable from the rest, and then measuring very carefully before installing the new hooks. Cas had protested the whole time, insisting Dean didn’t need to go to the trouble, he could get used to using one hook. Dean had reminded his boyfriend again and again of the discussion they’d had before he moved in, insisting that finding the solution that worked best for both of them was more important than spending a little time on home modifications.

“No,” Cas replies after swallowing the pills. “I’m not even sure when it started. How long have I been… grumpy?” he asks.

“Let me think,” Dean says, going to the coffee pot to fix them each a cup of coffee. That done, he sits beside Cas at the island, handing him his bee cup and taking a sip from his wing cup. “It was kind of gradual. I noticed before we went to bed last night, but it may have started earlier. After you got home from work, I think. Pretty sure you were fine before you left in the morning.”

Cas drinks his coffee, trying to think if anything had bothered him at work yesterday. It had been a normal day; nothing new. He had found an error he’d made in his work, but he has made mistakes before. Messing up doesn’t cause headaches, it causes anxiety, fear that his mistakes could harm others, and self flagellation. And it isn’t subtle. He’d felt the anxiety coming on, and used a coping technique to help him through it. By the time he went home, Cas had accepted his mistake, rooted out the cause of it, fixed it, learned not to make the error again, and moved on. Was something different after he’d gotten home? He can’t think past the throbbing in his head. “I don’t think it was something from work. I’ll keep thinking about it, maybe I can figure it out.”

“Ok,” Dean says, leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on Cas’s forehead. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“There is,” Cas replies, turning his head so that their lips meet and taking Dean’s hand. “Distract me?”

“Gladly,” Dean grins, sliding off his stool and pulling Cas with him toward the bedroom. Once there, he closes the door, then draws Cas into his arms for a more thorough kiss, slow and smoldering. Taking their time, they remove each other’s clothing layer by layer, hands and mouths roaming in familiar exploration that still always manages to seem new, full of reverence and wonder. By the time they make it to the bed, they’re both naked, and Dean sits on Cas’s side of the bed, Cas climbing on to straddle his lap. Right arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist, Dean fishes out the lube from the nightstand drawer as they kiss, swallowing moans as Cas rocks their arousals together. Arching back when Dean slips lubed finger into him, Cas exposes his throat and Dean takes advantage of the offering, kissing, nipping, and sucking the bared skin as his ears drink in the moans of pleasure he elicits.

Nnn, Dean,” Cas moans as a second finger joins the first. He wants Dean inside and his boyfriend knows it, making sure the ring of muscles that Cas consciously relaxed really are ready before pulling his fingers out and replacing them with the hot, hard flesh that Cas wants. He moans again as Dean moves them further onto the bed, angling his knees behind Cas, giving himself purchase to thrust up into him. Cas rocks down onto each thrust, letting Dean set the slow pace, and revels in the feel of being filled. Not just physically; his chest is filled with the overwhelming love he has for this patient, understanding, gorgeous man who loves him too. It’s then, rocking onto the firm length within him, that Cas realizes the itchy, grumpy, tense feeling is gone. “It’s better,” he mumbles distractedly.

“What?” Dean asks, movements pausing.

“I feel better now.”

“You took ibuprofen,” Dean points out.

“Not just the headache, the other stuff too,”

“Oh,” Dean says, taking a deep breath and flopping back among the pillows. “You need to think about it? Figure out what’s different?”

Cas smiles down at his lover, running a hand over his firm, bared chest. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“Hopefully just as much as I love you, because it couldn’t possibly be more,” Dean smiles.

“I can think about things later. We were kind of in the middle of something here, right?” Cas grins.

“Can I?” Dean asks, indicating through movement that he wants to switch positions.

“Please,” Cas replies, rolling with Dean’s movement until Dean’s on top.

It doesn’t take long for the mood to return as Dean begins rocking into Cas, who wraps his legs around Dean’s waist to improve the angle. Moaning in pleasure, Dean slides his arms under Cas’s back, fingers hooking over his shoulders as he lifts his lover onto his lap, thrusting up into him, steady and deep. Needy, whimpering sounds slip from Cas’s lips as he clings to Dean, overwhelmed by the closeness they share. Reaching blindly for the discarded lube, Dean manages to get some on his hand, reaching between them to coat Cas’s arousal so it can slide, rubbing between their stomachs as he thrusts up into his love, pace quickening, hips snapping up every few ruts to strike the prostate, sending ripples of pleasure through the body pressed against him.

“Dean, Dean, so good, more,” Cas pants, and his lover obliges, picking up the pace and giving Cas what he needs, soon trembling as he holds off his release, wanting Cas to get there first. But he can only hold off for so long, and when Cas begs him to hurry, to come inside, Dean lets go with a shout, shuddering his release deep into tight heat. The feel of his love’s pleasure sends Cas over the edge as well, and they cling to each other, reveling in the after-tremors.

 

*****

 

“Morning,” Dean smiles, tentatively brushing his fingers over Cas’s naked shoulder. When Cas responds by snuggling closer, Dean wraps his arms around him, holding his boyfriend tight. “Love you. How are you feeling?”

“Hmm, I feel…” Cas starts, nuzzling against Dean, “wait, what’s that sound?”

“What sound?” Dean asks. He’s always careful to be quiet as possible in the mornings because he knows Cas’s hearing is more sensitive then.

“It’s… clicking? A quiet, steady click or something?” Cas replies, getting out of bed and going to the bedroom door. Dean follows, neither of them bothering with clothes. Leading the way toward the front door, pausing to listen every few steps, Cas stops in front of the office door, now Dean’s room. He looks to Dean for permission, then enters, moving purposefully to the nightstand beside the single bed. “It’s this,” he says, picking up an old, wind-up clock and examining it.

“Oh, geeze, I didn’t even think of that. I’m sorry, I brought a box of things over the day before yesterday. That must be what’s been bothering you. I’ll take it back to the apartment today. Is that why you only have digital clocks?”

“I always thought I just liked watching the numbers change, but maybe subconsciously I didn’t like the ticking. I’m sorry, I don’t want you to not be able to use your clock.”

“Hey, it’s ok. It was Dad’s, that’s the only reason I’ve always kept it. I’ll just take it to the apartment ‘til it winds down, then bring it back once it’s stopped ticking.”

“You shouldn’t have to give up your keepsake just for me,” Cas frowns.

“Hey, I’m not giving it up, just not using it. It’s fine, I don’t mind,” Dean replies, wrapping the clock in a few flannel shirts to muffle the sound until he can remove it from their home.

“Dean, I don’t want you to have to change for me. If you like using your clock you should be able to use your clock.”

“Cas, you’re changing for me, and I know how hard change is for you. Of course I’m going to make things as easy as I can. A little change here or there isn’t much of a hardship. We can do this together, we just have to be honest with each other.”

“But you’ll… I just, I want you to be happy.”

“I’ll what?”

“Nothing,” Cas replies, turning away.

“Not nothing, Cas, what did I just say about being honest?” Dean retorts, moving to stand in front of Cas, ducking down so their eyes can meet.

“Sorry, I know you said you won’t, I just… I’m so hard to live with, to understand. Sometimes I don’t even like living with myself, I wouldn’t blame you for not being able to live with me either.”

“Cas, whatever happens, we’ll work it out. I’m happy here, with you. And making you happy makes me happy too. This is why I kept the apartment for now. There’s no guarantee we’ll be able to live together, but even if we can’t, that doesn’t mean we can’t stay a couple.”

“But I _want_ to live with you. I like waking up with you, taking showers together, you making me coffee, sitting together on the couch just talking or watching TV.”

“Then stop worrying about me leaving and start concentrating on being happy together. I’ve told you before, we have all the time you need. And I’m never going to give you up, so just shut up and kiss me,” Dean grins.

“I think the problem is you’re just too good to be true,” Cas smiles, kissing Dean as ordered.

“I’m not. I’m human and I’ll make mistakes, but I’m here, and my heart isn’t going anywhere, believe me,” Dean replies as their lips part. “Now, how much time do we have before work? Enough for a proper shower together, since we’re already naked?”

“Sure, if you’re ok skipping breakfast.”

“We’ll hit a drive-thru on the way. Go grab us some clothes while I get the coffee started and we’ll meet up in the bathroom.”

Cas does, and Dean does, and they manage to make it to work on time, though just barely. Of course there are more changes and compromises, arguments and agreements, bad days and better days. Dean keeps his apartment, spending time there when he knows Cas needs a break. But they work on it, and they make progress, even if it is the progress of glaciers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, short, sweet chapter. Next part will have a bit more plot to it :D
> 
> Oh, I finished [Mathematical Miracle](%E2%80%9D) and added it to the [Heavenly Body Karaoke](%E2%80%9D) playlist. It’s acapella since I don’t play music and a bit rough since it’s my first time making a video, but it’s there if you want to hear what the song sounds like.
> 
> As always, comments, questions, corrections and suggestions always welcome and encouraged :D your support always gives me the best motivation :D


	4. Take Me Home, Country Road part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dean wakes petulantly when Cas jumps out of bed and starts pulling his underwear on. “Cas, relax. You took the day off work today, remember?”_  
>  _“I know that, but someone’s at the door,” comes the reply, muffled by the thin, white undershirt Cas is pulling on._  
>  _“I didn’t hear an-“ Dean is cut off by the sound of soft knocking that is only audible because the apartment is so quiet. “Ok, I’ll get it. You get back in bed. You promised you’d stay in bed until noon.”_  
>  _Cas makes a face but complies anyway as Dean grabs his robe from its hook behind the door, putting it on and tying it closed as he mentally curses Charlie. She_ knew _they were sleeping in today, why would she be over at six in the freaking morning? Dean pulls the front door open grumpily, ready to give the bubbly-at-all-times-even-six-am redhead a tongue-lashing, then stops short. The woman standing outside the door, fist raised to knock again, is definitely not Charlie. Neither is the man behind her, who looks uncannily like an older Cas._ shit _._  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Characters:** Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Jimmy Novak, Ameila Novak, 
> 
> **Chapter Tags:** Destiel, AU-modern setting, religious homophobia, Cas’s birthday, angst and love

Dean wakes petulantly when Cas jumps out of bed and starts pulling his underwear on. “Cas, relax. You took the day off work today, remember?”

“I know that, but someone’s at the door,” comes the reply, muffled by the thin, white undershirt Cas is pulling on.

“I didn’t hear an-“ Dean is cut off by the sound of soft knocking that is only audible because the apartment is so quiet. “Ok, I’ll get it. You get back in bed. You promised you’d stay in bed until noon.”

Cas makes a face but complies anyway as Dean grabs his robe from its hook behind the door, putting it on and tying it closed as he mentally curses Charlie. She _knew_ they were sleeping in today, why would she be over at six in the freaking morning? Dean pulls the front door open grumpily, ready to give the bubbly-at-all-times-even-six-am redhead a tongue-lashing, then stops short. The woman standing outside the door, fist raised to knock again, is definitely not Charlie. Neither is the man behind her, who looks uncannily like an older Cas. _shit_.

“Oh! Did we get the wrong apartment?” the woman asks, double checking the numbers on the door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Novak?” Dean asks, praying he’s wrong and they really have got the wrong apartment, though the man’s resemblance to Cas makes that highly unlikely.

“Is Castiel here?” the man responds, not really answering the question, though Dean assumes the answer is yes. His voice is also eerily similar to Cas’s, though not as low or gravelly. Dean thinks, if this is a preview of what Cas will look like in middle age, he’s even luckier than he was ten seconds ago.

“Of course, come in,” Dean says, opening the door and gesturing them inside. “Please, have a seat,” he offers, gesturing toward the living room. “I’ll just go tell him you’re here.” Dean hurries to the bedroom, hard-pressed not to break into a panicked sprint, closes the door behind him and leans back against it, eyes wide as he tries not to hyper-ventilate.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Cas asks from the bed in a concerned tone.

“Yo- your parents are here,” Dean stammers, clearly freaking out. Sure, he’d planned on meeting them. He’d have to, at some time, because he hopes to get their blessing before he proposes to Cas. Of course, he and Cas are nowhere near that point yet. But meeting his boyfriend’s parents in his robe with bedhead after having spent half the night having vigorous birthday sex with their son, was definitely not the best way to get on their good sides. When Cas speaks about them, he describes them as decent people who care a great deal for their only son, but are a bit overprotective, highly religious, and can be narrow-minded at times. Which means Dean had already felt at a disadvantage before even meeting them. Now, he wonders if they’ll ever approve of him after that first impression.

Cas jumps out of bed again the second the words are out of Dean’s mouth. “Go get clothes from your room and take a quick shower,” he instructs as he scoops up their discarded clothing from last night and shoves the armload into the hamper.

“He’ll be out shortly,” Dean informs the Novaks as he dashes to his room, grabs his newest black tee, jeans, and underclothes then dashes back to the bathroom, managing to use the toilet, wash his hair, scrub his body, shave, get dressed, and comb his hair in just under five minutes (the cold water at the start of the shower helped speed things up, since he didn’t wait for it to heat). When Dean comes out of the bathroom, Cas is just leaving the bedroom wearing his robe, clothes in his arms, almost like he timed it. Dean goes to the coffeemaker, getting it ready but not turning it on until he hears the shower start up.

The Novaks are sitting side by side on the couch, straight-backed, hands folded in their laps, expressions neutral as they ignore the quiet flurry of movement in the rest of the apartment.

Dean approaches nervously. “Can- May I get you something to drink?” he asks quietly, Ellen’s voice in his head correcting his grammar. “Coffee? Juice? Water? Tea? Milk?”

Mr. Novak just stares at Dean, mouth a thin line. Mrs. Novak says, “A coffee would be nice, thank you. With sugar and cream, please.”

They don’t have actual cream, of course. Dean and Cas take their coffee black, Charlie and Meg use flavored creamer. So Dean dispenses some milk into a juice glass, pours some coffee into one of the rarely used white guest mugs, takes the coffee cup and milk glass in one hand and grabs the sugar bowl with the other, setting all three on the coffee table in front of Mrs. Novak, then goes back to the kitchen for a spoon and napkin. As he’s delivering those, he hears the shower shut off, so he turns on Cas’s classical CD that he listens to when his mornings are disrupted by something unexpected, then fills the treasured bee cup and his own wing cup, taking both over to the bathroom door. Sipping his own coffee, he holds the bee cup out, handle outward, and when Cas emerges, he takes the offered comfort with a grateful smile.

Dean smiles back. “I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he says softly. As he starts to turn toward his room, he’s stopped by a vice-like grip on his arm.

“Stay. Please,” Cas implores.

Dean had thought Cas would want time alone with his parents before introducing his boyfriend. Part of him had been counting on having that time to mentally prepare himself. But it’s obvious Cas needs his support now, so Dean says, “Of course. Anything you need, I’ve got you.”

Squeezing Dean’s arm before withdrawing his hand, Cas goes to the living room and sits in the arm chair closest to his dad. This leaves the arm chair across the long coffee table from Cas, or the empty seat on the couch, next to Mrs. Novak. Dean takes option three; leaning against the back of the chair Cas is in. Mr. Novak is still leveling his thin-lipped stare at Dean, an obvious ‘go away’ that is confirmed when he speaks.

“Perhaps your friend would like to go home now, so we can talk?” Mr. Novak starts, more of a statement than a question.

“He already is home,” Cas replies, voice quiet but firm. “Dean, this is my father, James.” Dean holds out his hand to shake, but James Novak just looks at it as though it’s covered in slime, or mud or some other substance he’s highly adverse to touching ( _like his son’s come?_ Dean’s traitorous brain supplies, though of course his hands are clean. In the physical sense, at least). “And my mother, Amelia.” Amelia Novak stands quickly, leaning over to shake the hand her husband ignored, giving James a reproving glare. “Mother, Father, this is Dean, my.. flat-mate.” Cas’s hesitation is brief enough that his parents probably don’t even notice, though considering they spent the first eighteen years of his life with him, maybe they did. One of the things Dean had learned early on is that Cas doesn’t lie. He’s not always honest, but he doesn’t lie, and yes, there’s a difference. Roommate would be inaccurate, since, though they share Cas’s room most nights, Dean technically has a room of his own. Housemate isn’t quite right because they’re in an apartment, or flat, not a house. Which is why Cas had settled on flat-mate; they share a flat and they are mates, though more in the ‘romantic and sexual partner’ sense than the ‘just a friend’ definition. Hence, Cas’s statement is true but misleading, thereby being not entirely honest.

“Nice to meet you, Dean,” says Cas’s mother.

“You didn’t tell us you got a ‘flat-mate’,” accuses Cas’s father.

“It didn’t occur to me you would need to be informed,” replies Cas.

“We don’t, of course. You’re a grown man, Cas, fully capable of making your own decisions. It would just be nice to know more about what’s going on in your life,” Mrs. Novak explains in an obvious attempt to ease the growing tension between father and son.

“Mother, you _know_ I’m not good with telephones,” Cas points out.

“I know that, but you could at least write. We haven’t heard from you since New Year’s, other than the two-minute call the other day to tell us you weren’t coming home for your birthday. Which is why we decided to surprise you and take you out to breakfast before work today. No one should spend their birthday just working and then going home to spend the night alone. And your friends shouldn’t let you do that either.”

“I took the day off work, Mother. And I have plans with my friends. That’s why I cancelled our birthday dinner this year.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Novak says, clearly surprised. “That’s… that’s wonderful. Why haven’t you ever… No, that doesn’t matter. I’m glad you weren’t planning on spending your birthday alone. What time are you doing things with your friends? Is there still time to go to breakfast before?” 

“Dean was going to make-“

“No, that’s fine, Cas, you should go out with your parents. I can just make you breakfast tomorrow,” Dean says, moving around the chair so that he’s in Cas’s peripheral vision before placing a hand comfortingly on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Cas reaches up unconsciously to put a hand over Dean’s. “Only if you come too,” he says.

Dean sees the Novaks’ eyes widen slightly and hopes he’s not blushing as much as he thinks he is. “You’re spending all afternoon with me. Why not have some family time, just the three of you?”

“Dean,” Cas said pointedly, tone half commanding, half pleading.

“Well, if your parents don’t mind…”

“Actually, we do mind,” Mr. Novak says, voice a bit closer to Cas’s deep gravel than before.

“Jimmy!” Mrs. Novak admonishes, then focuses on Dean. “Of course we don’t mind. It’s great that Cas wants to bring a friend along.”

“Amelia, I’d like time to talk with my son, _alone_.”

“Well, then, why don’t Dean and I take the elevator down and bring the car around front while you and Cas take the stairs?”

Cas’s hand on Dean’s squeezes tighter in apprehension. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Dean,” Cas insists.

James Novak’s lips are the thinnest line Dean’s seen yet as he looks from his son to Dean. “Actually, why don’t you and Cas take the stairs and Dean and I can bring the car around,” he suggests.

Wincing as Cas’s grip on his hand becomes painful, Dean says, “I think that’s a good idea, Cas. You and your mom can have time to catch up.”

“Dean, no.”

Dean squats down, hand coming off Cas’s shoulder and turning over to twine their fingers together. “Cas, I’m your.. flat-mate. Don’t you think your dad and I should get to know each other?” he asks gently, the pause before ‘flat-mate’ just as brief as Cas’s had been.

“I don’t want him to…”

“It’s ok, Cas, I promise. I really would like time to talk with him,” Dean insists.

“You’re sure?” Cas asks, his normally impassive face looking almost as strained as it had been when he’d been running from his feelings for Dean.

“Yeah. I swear, everything’ll be fine, k?”

Cas gives a slight nod then blinks at their entwined fingers as though just realizing they’re holding hands. Dean squeezes lightly then stands, breaking the contact. “Should we head out?” he asks Cas’s father.

James Novak doesn’t reply, just stands and heads for the door, leaving Dean to hurry after him, pulling his shoes on and catching up outside the elevator. They step inside and the doors are barely closed before Jimmy starts in.

“I won’t let you take advantage of my son,” he growls.

“Take advantage? Sir, I would never-“

“Castiel may not be… he may not see people’s motives, but I know what you’re after. You’re mooching off him and leading him down the path to hell.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I saw the way you were looking at him. He may think you’re just a roomie, but you have ulterior motives; sex or money or both, and I _won’t_ allow it,” James insists, getting right in Dean’s face, righteous anger pouring off him and damned if that isn’t creepy coming from someone who looks so much like Cas.

“Mr. Novak, I swear to you, I have no ulterior motives toward your son; I don’t want anything but his happiness. You’re right about being more than roommates, but I love him. With every fiber of my being, and I will do anything in my power to make him happy and keep him happy. I don’t want or need money from him and I’m only living with him because it’s what he wanted. As for sex, that’s his business, not yours,” Dean retorts, hoping Cas won’t be mad at him for clarifying the half-truth about being flat-mates.

“It most certainly _is_ my business,” Jimmy insists. “If you want to go to hell that’s your choice, but I won’t let you drag my son down with you.”

“Look, I don’t know enough about the Bible to debate religion with you, but the few times Ellen took Sam and me to church, the message was always about love and acceptance. I can’t believe God would send a good man to hell for loving someone with all their heart. I understand your concern stems from your beliefs, but Cas’s beliefs are just as important, and are up to him to decide, not you. And the Bible may have been dictated by God, but it was written down by humans and then translated and retranslated many times over. How can we know the words we read now are God’s original intent? No disrespect meant to God or his prophets or anything, it’s just a language issue. I mean, priests in the south used to use the Bible to defend slavery just by adjusting their interpretation, right?” Dean says. He really isn’t equipped to address the issue. Dad hadn’t known Dean was bi, mainly because he’d never paid much attention to what Dean did, but everyone else in Dean’s life had always just accepted it without question. Basically, anyone who mattered didn’t have a problem with sexuality, and anyone who had a problem with it didn’t matter. But now he’s faced with Cas’s parents who care because they’re worried about their son’s soul. As far as Dean’s concerned, if there is an afterlife, as long as he and Cas are together and Cas is happy, he doesn’t care where it is. But he’s not going to say that to Cas’s dad.

“The Bible is not open to interpretation,” Mr. Novak asserts as they head out the building and across the street to the parking garage.

“Maybe, but the words used to make it are. For instance, the word flat-mate; someone who shares an apartment, right? But 2000 years from now, people may not know that ‘flat’ meant apartment. They might not even know what an apartment was. So they go with the meaning of ‘two-dimensional’. And mate can mean friend or lover or spouse or comrade. In that case, it could be interpreted as a 2D girlfriend/boyfriend, like a computer program or game or whatever. It might also be a girly mag or pen pal or flat-screen TV. And that’s just one word. Even with con… using the words around it to help get meaning, they’d still have to figure out what the words around it meant too, so… Yeah. Anyway, I think the Bible is meant to tell us to be respectful, love each other, don’t steal, lie, cheat, stuff like that.”

“I think The Devil speaks with a silver tongue. Ours is not to question the word of God, but to have Faith in his Word.”

“Sir, God gave us free will. Why would He do that if He wanted blind obedience to a book and the people who interpret it for us? Doesn’t He want us all to look within ourselves and find our own connection with Him?” Dean asks as they get into Mr. Novak’s car. He knows this isn’t really a debate that can be won or lost because Faith is individual to every person. But he wants Cas’s father to at least understand and accept his son, even if he doesn’t approve. Considering his refusal to accept Cas’s diagnosis though, that may be impossible.

“If he wanted us to ‘look within ourselves’, why did he give us his Word and priests?” James counters as he backs out of the parking spot and slowly makes his way down the ramps toward the exit.

Dean rubs his forehead. “I think this is a conversation you should be having with your son. My beliefs are irrelevant when his soul is the one you’re worried about. All I wanted to say is that I love Cas. He’s an amazing person and we’re happy living together. I have no intention of ever hurting him in any way. It would be nice if I could earn your approval because you’re his father and he loves you, but if that can’t happen, I understand.” They pull up to the curb in front of the building and Dean gets out before Mr. Novak can make a response, holding the door open for Mrs. Novak, then opening the back door for Cas, who gets in and scoots across the middle so Dean can sit on the passenger side. Cas looks at him questioningly, but Dean just shakes his head slightly. He doesn’t regret defending his intentions, but wishes he had talked with Cas first, gotten approval of telling Mr. Novak he was in love with Cas (though he hadn’t said anything about Cas’s feelings or the nature of their relationship). And it would have been nice if he and Cas had ever talked about religion. Having grown up in a religious household, Cas would have had better responses, he’s sure.

“So, where should we go for breakfast?” Mrs. Novak asks cheerfully, ignoring the tension between her husband and Dean. Cas gives the name and location of his favorite diner, which is halfway between home and work.

 

*****

 

“Come on, Dean, we’re leaving,” Cas says, intercepting Dean as he comes out of the bathroom.

“What? Cas, what happened?”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Cas seethes, tugging him toward the door.

“Cas, please, you know your father didn’t mean it,” Mrs. Novak says, stopping them before they get to the door.

“There’s no reasoning with him. He’s never accepted me the way I am, and he never will. Please, Mother, I don’t want to talk about this,” Cas replies as Dean steps over to the cash resister and waves their waiter over.

“At least take your birthday present.”

“I don’t want anything from _him_ ,” Cas asserts, as Dean asks the waiter for both bills from their table, since Mr. Novak had insisted on buying Cas’s breakfast but refused to pay for Dean’s. He pays both bills, adding a generous tip for the waiter, then returns to Cas’s side.

“It’s from me,” Mrs. Novak insists, opening her purse and pulling out a small box wrapped in sparkly silver paper and tied with a blue ribbon. “Please?” she says, holding the box out to him, eyes shiny with unshed tears.

Cas accepts the box somewhat reluctantly because even if his mother picked it out, his father still paid for it. But he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Sorry, Mother. Thank you.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” she chuckles weakly, wiping the corners of her eyes.

Frowning at the box as though it’s responsible for his social faux pas, Cas unties the ribbon, folding it neatly before carefully pulling the tape up from the ends of the paper and sliding the box out into his hand, folding the silver wrapping precisely as well. He tucks the ribbon and paper into his shirt pocket, then opens the box and looks inside. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he says, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a half-smile. Laying on a velvety black cushion is a small, silver cat, tiny blue gems for the eyes.

“I know you wear ties to work, so when I saw this tie pin I just had to get it for you. Do you like it?”

“I do. Thank you, I can use this,” Cas replies, hugging his mom when she opens her arms. “I love you, Mother. And I love Father too, even if I am frustrated with him and don’t want to see or hear from him unless it’s for him to apologize.”

“Of course. I understand, and I’ll work on him, but please try to think about things from his point of view too,” Mrs. Novak says.

“I know his point of view, I just disagree with it. Pastor Jim never said- Sorry, I’m tired of defending myself. I’m going home,” Cas sighs, turning and leaving.

“Please keep in touch,” his mom calls after him. “Dean, it really was nice to meet you. I’m glad Cas has someone in his life, and you really seem to understand him,” she adds to Dean as Cas exits and starts walking home. “I’m sorry about Jimmy. He means well, really.”

“I understand where he’s coming from, but all I want is for Cas to be happy. Hey, you got a phone?” Dean responds. Mrs. Novak pulls out her phone curiously. With her permission, Dean puts his number into her contacts, then texts himself and saves her number on his own phone. “Cas doesn’t like phones, but I’ve been easing him into texting. It’s less stressful than voice conversations. And I’ll keep in touch too. I really think you’d be proud of the man he is.”

“I already am. He seemed so happy when we were walking down from the apartment. And worried about you being alone with his father. I hope he wasn’t rude.”

Dean shrugs. “He was just worried about his son. I get it, and I respect it. But I really hope someday he’ll see me as someone who loves and treasures Cas instead of… the first step on the path to Hell or whatever.”

“I’m sorry. Jimmy and I have never seen eye to eye on some things. As I told Cas, I’ll work on him. Maybe I can get Pastor Jim to help as well. But even if my husband never comes around, you have my support. Just watching you interact for a few hours I could see how much you care for each other, and how smoothly you seem to fit together. I didn’t stand up for him as much as I should have when he was growing up, so it’s no surprise Cas has gotten more and more distant over the years. And while I can’t change the past, I can certainly learn from it. Regardless of whether his father ever comes around, I will always be on Cas’s side.”

Dean clasps her hand, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’m sure Cas knows that, but I’ll tell him anyway because it doesn’t hurt to be reminded. And thank you, Mrs. Novak.”

“Please, Dean, call me Amelia.”

Dean nods and smiles as she pats his cheek, then turns and heads out, jogging to catch up with Cas, who has been walking toward home while his mom and Dean were saying good-bye. Catching up is easy though, since Cas’s gait had been slow, waiting for his boyfriend. “You ok?” he asks softly as he reaches Cas’s side, holding a hand out, palm up in offering.

“Yes,” Cas replies curtly, arms remaining firmly crossed over his chest. “No. I don’t… why is he so unreasonable?”

Dean tucks his hands into his pockets, since Cas doesn’t seem to want contact at the moment. “He loves you and he’s worried about you.”

“But he refuses to listen to logic. He’s one of those people who focuses on words rather than messages. I know God loves me the way I am, and He made me as I was meant to be. Back in biblical days, sure, people needed to ‘be fruitful and multiply’, but the world is overpopulated now. There’s no need for everyone to be adding to the number of humans. And when it comes to spreading His message… you know, I went to church every Sunday for 25 years. After college, when I got a job here, I started attending a local service. A year later, after helping organize church events and volunteering at the church’s soup kitchen, I bring a boyfriend to the service one week and suddenly I’m out on my ear. What kind of message is that spreading? It’s no wonder church attendance is dropping. And my father has that same kind of narrow-minded thinking. And then Father has to bring up Sodom and Gomorrah. The go to ‘God hates gays’ story. But He didn’t smite the cities because people were gay. He’d gotten complaints, sent in a couple angels to investigate, and every guy in town showed up wanting to gang-rape the angels. The fact that the angels were guys was irrelevant. The outcome would have been the same regardless; the guys in the cities had been going around raping everyone; that’s most likely what the complaints had been about. God never specified. But my father won’t concede my point. He’s decided homosexuality was behind the smiting and won’t listen to a word otherwise. It’s just… it’s so frustrating. And it’s no different from back when he refused to accept my diagnosis until he found a doctor that just listed the symptoms instead of saying ‘autism’. He’s normally a logical, intelligent man, but some things he just… has his mind set and refuses to see anything that doesn’t fit the beliefs he already has.”

“I’m sorry. Faith is a tricky thing. For what it’s worth, God’s not the only one who loves you just the way you are,” Dean smiles. “And you mom said to tell you she has your back this time, and she’ll have your pastor help bring your dad around. I think she feels bad that she wasn’t as supportive as she could have been with the whole diagnosis thing.”

“Yeah, I know that now. It took a few years and some choice words from Charlie, but once she realized how alone I’d felt, she put far more effort into understanding me and helping me understand myself. As for Father, he’ll either come around or he won’t. As long as I have your love, I don’t need his approval,” Cas replies as they pass the apartment building to head for the Impala in the parking garage. His arms are no longer crossed over his chest. Over the past few blocks they’d loosened until they finally relaxed, swinging down by his sides. He reaches a hand over to clasp Dean’s, squeezing in gratitude.

“Well, you have all my love and then some,” Dean replies, squeezing back. He knows not needing approval isn’t the same as not wanting it. But it’s Cas’s birthday, and they have a bar full of friends and family waiting for them. Hopefully a bit of karaoke will brighten Cas’s day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. But hey, only a day late. And full of angst and discussions I’m not really equipped to have any more than Dean is. I’ve only had one same gender partner and it wasn’t much different than any of my other relationships, as far as I’m concerned. My family never really had a problem with it as far as I know. And in my mind, the body wrapped around a soul has no bearing on who that soul is or what feelings I have toward them. So yeah, arguing religion; really not my thing. But it’s important to Cas, both his faith and his family, so that makes it important to Dean. Hence his willingness to jump feet first into the deep end with Mr. Novak.
> 
> I’m always happy to hear comments, stories, opinions so please, feel free to respond with them. That said, this chapter was not meant to open a debate so please respect everyone’s beliefs and refrain from disparaging comments. Thanks for reading, and sorry for the confrontational chapter. Next part of this timestamp will be Gabe’s birthday party, so should be much happier :D btw, don’t think the date’s in the fic, but it’s Wednesday, August 20, 2003 and Cas just turned 29. (I gave Cas the same birthday as Misha Collins, August 20, 1974.


	5. Take Me Home, Country Road part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Thank you for inviting us. Your house is very big," Cas says, wiping his feet on the mat before entering._   
>  _"And nice," Dean adds._   
>  _"Oh, yes, nice," Cas corrects himself. "Did you do the remodels yourself? This must have cost a fortune. How did you ever afford it? When I went over your books it didn't look like-"_   
>  _"Cas," Dean interrupts, "maybe we should head to the pool? See who else is here?"_   
>  _Gabe laughs. "Hey, no worries. Actually, being so far from the city, and the amount of work the house needed, I got the whole place, including the two acres it's on, for just under thirty thousand. Remodel cost a bit over 100k, and the pool we just added on was 42k. I hired one of Mike's companies to do the work, though I did all the design."_   
>  _"Really? That's a lot of equity. I haven't seen the pool yet, but I would think the current value has to be at least two hundred fifty thousand, even with the distance from the city," Cas replies._   
>  _"You haven't seen the pool yet. It's probably closer to 300k," Sam says._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Rating:** T
> 
>  **Chapter Warnings:** none
> 
>  **Chapter Pairings:** Dean Winchester/Castiel (focus), Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters
> 
>  **Chapter Characters:** Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Gabe Himmler, Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Louden Swain, Garth Fitzgerald, Pamela Barnes, Asa Fox, Max Banes, Alicia Banes, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Ash Harvelle (adopted), Luke Himmler, Mike Himmler, Raph Himmler
> 
>  **Chapter Tags:** Destiel, AU-modern setting, pool party, Gabe’s birthday, surprises

"Seems like just last week we were having Cas's birthday party and here we are, summer's over and it's your turn to get a year older, Gabe," Dean says when his friend opens the door.

"Y'know, it's not like I gain a whole year in one day," Gabe points out as he ushers them in. "Head down this hall. Pool's past the new door at the end; gifts go on the table to the right after you go through the door."

"Thank you for inviting us. Your house is very big," Cas says, wiping his feet on the mat before entering.

"And nice," Dean adds.

"Oh, yes, nice," Cas corrects himself. "Did you do the remodels yourself? This must have cost a fortune. How did you ever afford it? When I went over your books it didn't look like-"

"Cas," Dean interrupts, "maybe we should head to the pool? See who else is here?"

Gabe laughs. "Hey, no worries. Actually, being so far from the city, and the amount of work the house needed, I got the whole place, including the two acres it's on, for just under thirty thousand. Remodel cost a bit over 100k, and the pool we just added on was 42k. I hired one of Mike's companies to do the work, though I did all the design."

"Really? That's a lot of equity. I haven't seen the pool yet, but I would think the current value has to be at least two hundred fifty thousand, even with the distance from the city," Cas replies.

"You haven't seen the pool yet. It's probably closer to 300k," Sam says, coming up and giving Gabe a peck on the cheek, only jumping a little when Gabe squeezes his ass in response. Sam hides his blush by offering Cas a tour, and the two head off as Dean and Gabe head for the back door.

"Speaking of houses," Dean says conversationally, once Cas is out of earshot, "What's up with the one next door?"

"If by 'next door' you mean the one over half a mile down the road," Gabe chuckles, "it's been for sale since before I bought this place. Actually, I looked at both houses and that one had less work needed, but they wanted 45k for it and wouldn't come down in price. So I wound up going for this place and it cleaned up pretty nice if I do say so. Been a few years since then and it's still sittin’ there, so I bet they'd be willing to lower the price now. You and Cas thinkin' about buying a place?"

"The thought has crossed my mind, though I haven't discussed it with Cas yet. I know he likes being in walking distance of work, restaurants, and stores, but I also think he'd be happier if we had more space."

"Well, maybe see how he likes our place then ask if he'd like something similar?" Gabe suggests.

"Yeah, wouldn't hurt to ask," Dean replies as they reach the pool, which is in a huge room with a glass ceiling, the far wall all windows. "Wow, you really went all out," he comments as he puts the present from him and Cas on the table to the right of the door, joining a few other brightly wrapped boxes.

"Yep. Spared no expense," Gabe grins. "Always wanted a house with a pool. Now that I have someone to enjoy it with me, figured it was time we get one."

"Hey, Gabe," Dean asks, focusing on his friend with a curious gaze. "You and Sammy both say 'our house'. How long was it before it stopped being 'your place' and became 'our place'?"

Gabe shrugs. "For me, it was 'our place' as soon as Sam agreed to move in. But before that, it was just a house. A nice house, that I'd spent a lot of thought, time, and money on, sure, but still... It wasn't home until Sam. And after hearing me say 'our' so much, I think it kinda sank in for Sam and he started saying it too. Why do you ask? Your place still 'Cas's place'?"

"Not exactly, but it isn't really 'our place' either, y’know?"

"I think so. Maybe it's because there was so much of Cas there before you moved in?"

"Like it was a home, not just a house, or apartment, whatever?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, exactly. So maybe you need somewhere you can both make a home, together. Doesn't have to be all the way out here though. You could just get a bigger apartment in the same building if you wanted," Gabe replies.

"It would be more practical to stay in the city, but there's so much space out here. And I could have a whole barn to work on cars and scraptures, where Cas wouldn't get stressed about the clutter."

"Good school system too," Gabe adds, shrugging when Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "What? I always planned to have a rugrat or two. Kids're great. Sam wants kids too, so it's a good thing I researched schools before buying a house. This area's actually the second best school district in the state."

"Wait, you and Sam are already talking about having kids?" Dean blinks.

"What? No, of course not. Not yet, at least. I'm not ready to ruin my girlish figure," Gabe jokes. "Nah, I just know kids were part of Sam's 'plan' so I figure, at some point, we'll be adopting or getting a surogate. Won't you and Cas want kids eventually?"

Dean shrugs. "Not sure yet. We're still getting used to sharing space with each other. But hey, if Cas decides he doesn't want kids, I can always just spoil yours."

"Only if we get the free family babysitting discount," Gabe laughs, then points out the changing rooms to Dean when the doorbell rings, signaling another arrival.

Heading for one of the indicated individual rooms, Dean puts on his trunks and rinses off. When he's done, he finds Sam and Cas standing near a table of refreshments. "Hey. You guys gonna swim?" he asks, offering his boyfriend the bag with Cas's swimwear, their towels, and now Dean's clothes in it.

"I don't think so. At least, not right now," Cas says, taking the offered bag and setting it under the snack table.

"I'm going to wait 'til everyone gets here. Don't want to leave all the host duties to the birthday boy," Sam replies, smiling.

Feeling a tap from behind on his left shoulder, Dean turns right, knowing it must be Gabe, who's always tapping one shoulder, then coming up from the other side. But when Dean turns, there's no one there, just the pool a few feet away. "Wha-" Before he can turn back around, he's given a hard push that propels him into the water. When he manages to surface, sputtering and turning, he sees Gabe doubled over with laughter. "Hey, what the hell was that for?"

"For fun?" Gabe replies, laughing even harder at the look on Dean's face. Sam snaps a picture with his phone, as do Charlie and Meg, who had just been escorted to the pool by Gabe.

"That didn't seem very safe," Cas frowns as Dean makes his way to the ladder and climbs out. "You do know, as owner of the pool, you're liable for any injuries sustained, right?"

"Got that covered," Gabe grins, pointing to a sign that reads, 'owners not responsible for losses, including but not limited to: personal property, blood, limbs, mobility, wages, balance, virginities, minds'. " 'Sides, Dean's not gonna whine about a little shove like that, are you, Dean?"

"I don't know. How much you think we could sue him for, Cas?" Dean jokes.

"Hmm, you weren't injured. We wouldn't get much. Think you can slip and fall back in, maybe crack your head open on the bottom of the pool? I don't see a 'slippery when wet' sign anywhere, that should net us a fortune. Well, me, at least. Not sure you'd survive between the bleeding out and knocking yourself unconscious underwater," Cas deadpans. Everyone laughs.

"Maybe you should be the one getting injured," Dean teases, approaching Cas as though preparing to toss him into the water.

"I'd rather not," Cas replies, sliding smoothly around the table and casually hooking an arm over a towel rack that's bracketed to the wall. Everyone laughs again, then the doorbell's ringing and Sam goes to answer this time.

A few minutes later, Sam comes back with Chuck Shurley and the other members of Louden Swain, along with Garth, who's helping the band bring in their instruments.

"OMG, you booked Louden Swain to play your party?" Charlie exclaims as she and Meg come out of the changing room where they'd showered together.

"Better watch out, she's getting her fan-girl geek on," Meg chuckles.

"No, no, I didn't book them. They're guests. Why'd you bring your instruments, guys?" Gabe asks.

"Hey, if I have to sing 'Happy Birthday', I want to do it right. After all, I have years of missed birthdays to make up for," Chuck smiles sheepishly.

"Chuck, you're here to have fun, not to work," Gabe replies.

"For us, work _is_ fun," Chuck shrugs with a grin. "Don't worry, we'll be sure to enjoy the pool first."

"You'd better," Gabe insists, pointing them toward the changing rooms before going to answer the door again. He comes back a few minutes later with Pamela, Asa, and a couple cute teenagers in tow, whom Asa introduces as his kids, Max and Alicia.

"Wow, they're gonna be heartbreakers when they grow up," Sam comments as the teens head for the changing rooms. "How old are they?"

"Fifteen; they're twins. And they're already heartbreakers. They both ditched their boyfriends today and begged their mom to let them 'visit their dad', once _someone_ blabbed that Louden Swain was going to be here," Asa replies with a pointed look at Pamela.

"You know you wanted to spend some time with them, I was just helping arrange it," Pamela grins.

"So they don't live with you?" Sam asks.

"Nah. Their mom and I had a ‘friends with benefits’ thing years ago... wound up with a couple extra benefits," Asa grins. "But I'm away a lot for work, so I try to see them as much as I can when I'm home."

"What has you traveling so much? You in sales or something?"

"Kinda. I deal in antiquities and artifacts."

"Whoa, wait, you mean like raiders type stuff?" Dean interjects, eyes going wide.

"Minus the hat, but yeah, kinda like that. And less tombs, more traipsing across the globe chasing down leads. There's a lot more research involved than the movies suggested. Still fun though."

"Cool, you gotta tell me all about it. Ever meet up with any Lara Croft types?" Dean gushes, eyes sparkling with interest.

"No one hot as Angelina Jolie, but I've definitely come across my fair share of cute smart chicks. And believe me, they're dynamite in the sack," Asa laughs.

The laughter is interrupted by the doorbell. It’s Sam’s turn to answer, and he returns followed by Jo, Ash, Ellen, and Bobby. There's another round of introductions, more use of the changing rooms, and then everyone is in the pool, playing and having fun. Even Cas gets his suit on, when Dean says he needs one more on his team for the game of volleyball that starts up in the shallower end. 

A few hours later, the doorbell rings again and Sam, assuming it's the pizzas they had pre-ordered, wraps a towel around his waist and goes to answer while everyone climbs out of the pool and begins drying off.

"So, Ellen," Dean asks as they're toweling down, "how'd you manage to get away from the Roadhouse? Close down for the day?"

"Nah, I'm not gonna leave my regulars go hungry a day just for a party. I got a couple new part-timers, sisters, Alex and Claire Jones. Claire's seventeen and a bit flakey but she's honest and Alex keeps her on task. Alex is nineteen and working her way through college; gonna be a nurse. They've been doin’ pretty good, so I figured I'd trust them with the bar for one night," Ellen explains.

“Think it’ll still be there when you get back?” Dean teases.

“Damn well better be or I’ll take it outta them girls’ hides,” Ellen replies, though she doesn’t look worried. Everyone in earshot is laughing at Ellen’s statement when Sam rushes through the door, looking slightly panicked, grabs Gabe and drags him into the house.

“Wonder what that was about?” Dean muses. No one has an answer, so people start pulling shorts and jeans on over damp swimsuits or just putting shirts on. Everyone expects to swim some more after they eat.

“What’s up?” Dean asks Sam when he returns, sans Gabe.

“Remember how I laughed when you told me how you met Cas’s parents on his birthday?”

“Yeah, and I threatened to kick your ass ‘cause it wasn’t funny. More like terrifying. And embarrassing.” Dean replies.

“Yeah, and I get that now, completely,” Sam says, still looking a bit disconcerted.

“Wait, was that Gabe’s parents at the door?” Dean queries, eyebrows raised.

“Worse. His brothers.”

“How are brothers worse than parents?”

“You haven’t met them. Did Gabe ever tell you about them?” Sam asks.

“Not much, other than mentioning they helped him get the bar,” Dean replies.

“They’re… very intimidating. Two business moguls, with a fierce rivalry between them, and a high-ranking army officer. Gabe invited them, of course, but he hadn’t thought they’d show. Especially Raph; we didn’t know he was on leave.”

“Aren’t they close?”

“I’m not sure. I think they are, in some ways, but not like you and me.”

At that point, Gabe returns, three men following behind him. The introductions this time seem a bit more formal, Gabe abnormally subdued without his usual joviality. Luke, the oldest and tallest, has short, spikey, bleach-blonde hair, blue eyes and lightly tanned skin. He seems the friendliest of the three which explains why he and Gabe have always gotten along well, though Gabe doesn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, which is not at all. Next oldest is Mike, who is a couple inches shorter than Luke, has dark hair, intense blue eyes that seem to analyze everything they see, and fair skin. Third oldest is Raph. Less than half an inch shorter than Luke, his skin is tanned almost as dark as his crew-cut hair and his brown eyes have the same critical gaze as Mike’s.

The party takes on a different air after that. Next ring of the doorbell is the expected pizza and people begin eating, milling about and talking, conversation stalling whenever one of Gabe’s older brothers approaches, then resuming under the brother’s guidance. Maybe it’s just prejudice against the rich, but no one seems comfortable around any of Gabe’s brothers, not even Lucifer, who comes across as friendly and more approachable than Mike or Raph. Well, almost nobody. Pamela is never uncomfortable around anyone, so she converses individually with all three at length, probably psychoanalyzing them. 

Chuck knows Gabe’s brothers already, having spent a large portion of his teenage years at Gabe’s house, since they were best friends back then. However, knowing them doesn’t make them any less intimidating to the nervous man. He avoids having to make small talk by gathering his band-mates and starting up a small concert for Gabe. Tension finally eases as the music starts, Charlie, Alicia, and Max quickly forming a cheering audience that others join one by one.

Around eight, the band takes a break for cake, ice cream, and presents. The gifts that had been on the table when Dean and Cas arrived are from Gabe’s parents and brothers, all far more expensive than anything else Gabe gets. Even so, his favorite present is from Sam, a cookbook exclusively full of strawberry recipes. The assortment of gourmet dessert toppings from Dean and Cas is a close second. His Family’s gifts; a tailored Armani suit from his parents, a rolex watch from Mike, and expensive cuff-links from Raph, are quite nice, but not his style at all. Only Luke’s gifts, a joke book, a book of gags and pranks, and a top-of-the-line new stereo for the Corvette, show any knowledge of the youngest brother’s tastes.

While the presents are being opened, Sam and Dean cut the strawberry, chocolate, and yellow cakes, putting the pieces on small plates and setting them out on the snack table. Ellen and Jo scoop the many flavors of ice cream into small bowls and intersperse them among the cakes. People wander over after the gifts are done, grabbing whichever desserts suit their fancy, then heading to the folding chairs arranged around where Louden Swain is starting up a second set. The atmosphere has finally gotten more relaxed and everyone enjoys the rest of the night. Luke even joins most of the guests in swimming after the band wraps up the mini-concert at ten. Mike and Raph talk with Pamela, Asa, and Bobby while everyone else swims.

It’s well after midnight before things start winding down, Ellen dragging Jo and Ash out of the pool to rinse off, change, and get ready to go. Chuck and the band reluctantly dry off shortly after, since they have a recording session the next afternoon. Max and Alicia follow, though Chuck politely declines their jail-bait offer to help him get changed. Everyone else exits the pool too, then there are hugs and handshakes, a couple of autographs from all the band members for the twins, and promises to keep in touch or see each other soon. By quarter after one, the only guests left are Garth, Dean and Cas, who help clean up.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Gabe insists, following Cas as they take empty plates and bowls into the kitchen.

“It’s your party, you shouldn’t have to clean up,” Cas counters. “Besides, we’re family. It’s only natural to help.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Gabe replies as they set the dishes in the sink and Cas starts rinsing, Gabe putting the rinsed plates and bowls into the dishwasher. “Speaking of which, it’d be nice if you and Dean lived closer, don’t you think? We could see each other more often, help out, hang out, have fun.”

Cas gives Gabe a curious look. “We already see each other often at the bar. Moving closer to you here would mean a longer commute to work, to see Charlie, to go to the bar; why would we want that?”

“Lotsa space out here. Less noise,” Gabe shrugs.

“Gabe, you live off of a main highway,” Cas points out.

“And how much traffic have you heard, other than the people coming here for the party?”

“Hmm… I haven’t really noticed. Maybe because you’re set so far back from the road? But my apartment’s quiet too: soundproofed.”

“Yeah, but you hear the neighbors from out in the hallway, or if you open the windows, right? Plus, you’ve got nine floors of stairs to deal with. Seems to me, driving from here would probably take about the same amount of time as you walking down the stairs and several blocks through morning traffic. Not to mention, there’s a great diner on the way. You and Dean could leave early, stop for breakfast, and have the entire car ride together. A further commute, sure, but not necessarily longer, and possibly more pleasant.”

“Are you asking us to move in with you?” Cas asks, brows furrowed.

“What? No. I mean, not that I’d mind if you wanted to or needed a place to stay or whatever, but I seriously doubt Dean wants to hear… yeah, no, I was thinking more about the place next door. Similar layout to here, lots of land, has a barn. And this area’s zoned farmland so you could have horses or cows or-“

“Bees?” Cas interjects.

“Well, those aren’t farm animals, per se, but yeah, sure. Could get yourself a hive, have a nice little flower garden for them to pollenate, or even a vegetable garden. Fresh veggies are always nice. Maybe a small orchard too, apples or cherries or peaches. Blossoms are pretty in the spring,” Gabe laughs. “Hell, I think I’m talking myself into an orchard. Oooh, and a strawberry patch! That’d be the best! And your bees could pollenate my fruits!”

Cas chuckles. “I doubt you intended it that way, but there’s a dirty joke in there somewhere. Anyway, it would be nice to be able to raise bees, but I don’t know… it’s miles from anywhere and I can’t drive. If I couldn’t make it into work, I could still complete most of my tasks from home, but I don’t like the idea of being unable to even get groceries on my own.”

“Can’t you just learn to drive? I’m sure Dean would teach you.”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m too easily distracted. Or rather, it’s difficult to maintain focus on multiple things. My mind would get bored with driving and start thinking about other things and then I’d focus on what I was thinking about rather than on driving and that’s just dangerous.”

“Well, if you stocked up on dry and canned goods, maybe get a big storage freezer to stock up on frozen stuff, then you could get a milk cow and some chickens for eggs, a garden for fresh veggies, and then if you couldn’t get to the store when you wanted, you wouldn’t worry about having to wait a while?” Gabe suggests. “Maybe you could even work from home all the time if you wanted?”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. It would probably be more peaceful; easier to complete my work.”

“Yep. And now that Sam’s started classes, I’m home alone most days till three, so we could have lunches together or you could come over to use the pool any time you wanted.”

“Are you trying to get me to move to the middle of nowhere, just so you have someone to ‘hang’ with now that Sam’s back in college?” Cas accuses.

Gabe laughs. “Well, it would be a perk, but I really think you and Dean would enjoy it. You’d have a bigger house where you could each have places that are just yours. Maybe a soundproof office for you, and Dean could have the barn for his projects. And the two of you could direct the remodel to be exactly what you want; you’d get to decorate the common spaces together…”

“And Dean could stop paying for the apartment he rarely uses,” Cas adds.

“He still has his apartment?” Gabe asks as he closes the dishwasher and starts it.

“Dean doesn’t want me to feel like he has nowhere to go when I need time alone,” Cas admits.

“Well, if you had a bigger place together out here, he could go to the barn, or you could stay in your soundproofed office; maybe have a foldaway guest bed in there or something,” Gabe suggests. “Or you could spend time in the yard with the bees or working on the garden.”

“The idea has its merits. It’s still a huge change from living in the city though. I’ll talk with Dean and think about it,” Cas concedes. Gabe doesn’t mention that he’s already talked to Dean about it.

“You could host your tabletop games with Meg and Charlie out here, too. I think they’d enjoy the fresh air. And if you work from home, maybe you could start a bit early, be done by three, and catch a ride into the city with me. Also, if you need a co-signer for a mortgage or loan or whatever, I’d be happy to do that for you.”

“Oh, I don’t think that would be necessary. I’m sure I have enough saved up to cover buying and remodeling a house out here.”

“Well, the house wouldn’t cost too much, but remodels can be expensive,” Gabe cautions.

“I know. You told me this afternoon how much this place cost. I have more than enough for that, even if we did the pool, which I doubt we would considering your pool would be right next door. We’d have more cost for landscaping though, and with remodeling a barn as well. And if we got a cow and chickens we’d have to pay for them and build a smaller barn for the cow and a coop for the chickens. Oh, actually, maybe we should get a couple horses. That would make going to your house quicker. Bikes require less care, but there aren’t any sidewalks and I wouldn’t feel comfortable riding along the highway.”

“We could always put a sidewalk between our places, if you don’t want the upkeep of horses. Seems like they’d be a lot of work.”

“True, but I’ve kind of always liked horses, even though I’ve never ridden one.”

“Gabe, we are _not_ getting horses; I’d get stuck taking care of them,” Sam says, entering the kitchen.

“We were talking about Cas and Dean getting horses,” Gabe explains.

“If they stabled them here it’d be the same thing; I’d wind up having to take care of them,” Sam retorts.

“No, we were talking about if Dean and I got the next house over,” Cas clarifies.

“Wait, you and Dean are moving next door?” Sam exclaims, face lighting up.

“Gabe and I were just talking about the possibility. Dean and I haven’t discussed it yet.”

“Haven’t discussed what?” Dean asks as he comes into the kitchen.

“Moving into the next house over,” Cas replies.

“Oh. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Dean says, going to Cas and leaning in, then kissing his cheek when he seems ok with it. “I noticed on the way here that it’s for sale. Thought things might be better if we had a bit more space.”

“Gabe’s been pointing out all the benefits. It’s a tempting idea, though I’m sure I’d miss living in the city.”

“Maybe you could stay here for a week, see how you like it?” Sam suggests.

“Sam, that’s not-“ Gabe and Dean start at the same time, before breaking into laughter at the concurrent protests.

“Sharing a roof with your brother and his lover might be a bit uncomfortable for one or both of you,” Cas explains when Sam looks confused. Gabe having just suggested as much to Cas having prompted him to share the revelation.

“Oh,” Sam blushes. “Right. Hadn’t thought about that.”

“We could always get the house, fix it up, try living there for a few weeks, and if we don’t like it we’d be able to sell it for a profit. If we like it, we stay and terminate our leases on our apartments,” Dean offers.

“Sell,” Cas corrects.

“What?”

“My apartment. I own it. So we’d sell it or maybe rent it out,” Cas explains.

“Really? I mean, I know it’s not huge, but it is two bedrooms, and it’s in a high demand area. How much you have left on your mortgage?” Dean asks, surprised. He’d always assumed Cas was renting. After all, he’s only five years older, and Dean isn’t anywhere close to being ready to buy a… well, he hadn’t been ready to buy a place, till after he’d met Cas. Is he really ready now, though? Looking at Cas he realizes, yes, he is.

“I never had a mortgage. Borrowing money is inefficient,” Cas replies.

“Then how did you buy it?” Dean asks.

“Technically, I didn’t. My trust owns it. I suppose the trust would have to decide what to do with it if I move,” Cas explains.

“Cas… are you rich?”

“Of course not, Dean. My parents started the trust years ago, to make sure I’d be taken care of if I wasn’t able to… integrate into society. These days it’s just gathering interest and dividends. I make far more than I need with my accounting work, so once I was out of college and had my place, I stopped the monthly allowance. Better to let the money grow in case I need it later.”

“That’s just… kinda hard to wrap my head around,” Dean says.

“Does it bother you?” Cas asks.

“No, of course not, it’s just… weird. Explains why your dad was worried about me using you for money, though. I just assumed you spent most of what you made on rent, utilities, and food. Taking rent out of that equation… what do you spend your money on? You don’t collect anything or spend money on hobbies, right? You don’t even have to pay for car insurance and gas. Why don’t you have more stuff? Or more expensive stuff? Not that you need to or anything, it’s just… you’ve never come off as being financially well-off. I mean I know you’re more secure, money-wise, than I am, but, I just…” Dean fumbles.

“Dean, I have everything I need, and I don’t like clutter. When I want to go out to eat, or to karaoke, I go. Other than that, there isn’t anything beyond utilities and food that I need. Most of my checks go into a savings account,” Cas shrugs.

Frowning, Dean thinks of the matching, engraved platinum rings in his wallet. They’d cost a good portion of what he’d made when he finished the ’66 Stingray restoration, but now that seems too cheap. Maybe he should have waited before buying them, but he wanted to be ready when the right time came to ask, and with Cas there was no predicting when that time might come up.

“It _does_ bother you,” Cas frowns. “Dean, it’s no different than having a label; it doesn’t change who I am, just puts it in different context.”

“No, Cas, it’s not that, just… I’m a bit disappointed that I can’t buy as nice of things for you as you could buy for yourself,” Dean admits. “And it’s an extra strike against me with your parents that I didn’t realize I had.”

“You know you have less than zero strikes with my mom. She adores you and she’s happy for me. And thrilled that you’ve been getting me to text her,” Cas points out. “As for buying me things, anything you get me is nicer than what I’d get for myself because I don’t get things for myself.”

Noticing Sam and Gabe have quietly left at some point to see Garth off, Dean realizes this conversation probably should have waited till they got home. “I’m sorry. You’re right; it doesn’t change anything. Just took me by surprise, I guess. So, if we did decide to buy the house next door, I take it you wouldn’t want to get a mortgage?”

“Like I said, borrowing money is inefficient. I have enough saved to buy the house and remodel it, do what we want with the yard.”

“But I wanted to buy the house together. With my money and yours. But I’ve only got around 10k in the bank. I’ll get more when I finish the 30’s Bently rebuild, but not nearly enough to pay for half a house.”

“Dean, that’s ridiculous. My money’s just sitting in the bank doing nothing. Besides, you’d have more money if you hadn’t had to waste it on rent and utilities in an apartment you hardly use anymore, just because I’m not used to living with someone.”

“How about if Cas pays for the house and remodel, I do up the yard and barn for ya as a housewarming gift, and you do the decorating and buy the furnishings?” Gabe suggests to Dean as he and Sam come back into the kitchen.

“But that’s-“ Dean starts.

“How family works?” Gabe interrupts. “You both support and help each other in the ways that matter, money shouldn’t be an issue.”

“He’s right, Dean. You already do so much for me. More than I could ever have hoped for, and I love you. Won’t you let me do this for you?” Cas says.

Dean blinks. “That almost sounds like you’ve already made up your mind to buy the place.”

Cas blinks back. “Odd, I think I have. Usually I’d spend weeks, months thinking over a decision this big. Am I being too impulsive? Gabe brought up some good points, and I can just picture us living there. Don’t you think you’d want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it’d be awesome. But are you sure? I mean about living together, permanently? Like, forever?” Dean asks.

“I don’t think we’re going to live long enough to be there forever. But for the rest of our lives, yeah. Mom will love us being 45 minutes closer to them, too,” Cas replies.

“In that case, as long as we’re being impulsive, do you mind answering one more important question?” Dean adds.

Brows furrowed, Cas looks Dean curiously. “What question?”

Dean’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, shuffling from foot to foot nervously as he pulls his wallet from his back pocket and fumbles something out of it. Looking at Cas, he licks his lips, clearing his throat as he drops down to one knee. Sam’s eyes go wide, and Gabe claps his hands over his mouth to hold back the squeal of glee that wants to come out. Cas still looks confused until Dean holds up the paired rings and says, “Cas, will you marry me?”

Understanding dawns gradually over Cas’s face as his mouth slowly works itself into one of his rare, full, eye-crinkling smiles. “Dean, are you sure? Because I don’t believe in divorce,” he cautions, hardly able to believe Dean could really want to be with him for the rest of their lives after the struggles he’s already had to endure, just learning to live together the past few months. The fact that he’d just offered to buy a house that they would spend the rest of their lives in together, seems to have fled his mind.

“Cas, I’m sure. More than sure. No divorce, just you and me, together, always.”

“Then yes. Marrying you would make me very happy,” Cas answers, offering Dean his left hand. 

Dean slips the ring on, then hands Cas the other ring, holding his own left hand out. “They’re identical,” he comments as his boyfriend, no, fiancé, examines the ring before sliding it onto Dean’s finger. In the center of the band is an infinity symbol, the rest of the ring etched with tiny bees and wings, the low parts black against the platinum’s silver, giving them an intricate look. The inscription on the inside says ‘Together Always’.

“They’re perfect. Just like you,” Cas says, taking both Dean’s hands and pulling him to his feet for a sweet, long kiss full of love.

Sam and Gabe manage to hold back for almost two full minutes before they’re clapping, rushing Dean and Cas to give them hugs and say how happy they are for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww, dean, so sweet! So this chapter didn’t end at all like I expected. I thought dean was going to have to take cas home and talk with him about the house and then spend weeks convincing him… apparently gabe was better at convincing cas. Didn’t know gabe was gonna suggest it till he started talking hehe. And the end… I thought that was gonna wait till the next chapter too. And yes, there will be one more chapter to this timestamp. Remodel and wedding. But I might post a one-chapter sabriel timestamp ‘We’re Having a Party’ next. Since it’s concurrent with this one, the birthday party from Gabe and/or Sam’s perspective. 
> 
> I’m also thinking about cutting down to one chapter per week, which means this fic would be updated every other week, alternating with chapters of ‘Future Lies in a Dystopian Heaven’. If I do, releases will be Monday nights (probably late at night), because what better way to start the week, right?
> 
> I meant to mention again last week that I added a video of [Mathematical Miracle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ed-WuTqF0_k&t=4s) to my [Heavenly Body Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tYNRi4S2vs&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWumf0mpWezPWlXnrS96FGVL). Still acapella for now. Maybe at some point i'll be able to get some music made to go with it. I also have a [Supernatural Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw6_VXPwm6U&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWvqcFahx2ABIAr9fwxFww2w) that has a mix of music from the show and covers/con performances of various songs by actors from the show. When I write, I’m either listening to that or watching Supernatural reruns :D
> 
> As always, comments, questions, suggestions and corrections welcomed and encouraged!


	6. We’re Having a Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Wednesday night, after they get home from the bar, Sam comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a big, cheap red bow on his head._   
>  _Gabe looks up from his reading and grins, putting his graphic novel on the nightstand and setting his reading glasses on top of it. “What’s this?” he asks._   
>  _“Happy birthday,” Sam grins sheepishly, blushing._   
>  _“It’s not my birthday ‘til tomorrow,” Gabe smiles, patting the bed beside him._   
>  _“Check the clock; it already is tomorrow,” Sam chuckles, sitting beside his lover and handing him an envelope._   
>  _“And you’re giving me yourself? Isn’t that kinda corny?”_   
>  _“Yeah, but so are you,” Sam teases. “Open it.”_   
>    
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Rating:** E
> 
>  **Chapter Warnings:** none
> 
>  **Chapter Pairings:** Gabriel/Sam Winchester (focus), Dean Winchester/Castiel, Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters
> 
>  **Chapter Characters:** Gabe Himmler, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Charlie Bradbury, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Louden Swain, Garth Fitzgerald, Pamela Barnes, Asa Fox, Max Banes, Alicia Banes, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Ash Harvelle (adopted), Luke Himmler, Mike Himmler, Raph Himmler
> 
>  **Chapter Tags:** Sabriel, AU-modern setting, pool party, Gabe’s birthday, surprises, barebacking

Wednesday night, after they get home from the bar, Sam comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a big, cheap red bow on his head.

Gabe looks up from his reading and grins, putting his graphic novel on the nightstand and setting his reading glasses on top of it. “What’s this?” he asks.

“Happy birthday,” Sam grins sheepishly, blushing.

“It’s not my birthday ‘til tomorrow,” Gabe smiles, patting the bed beside him.

“Check the clock; it already is tomorrow,” Sam chuckles, sitting beside his lover and handing him an envelope.

“And you’re giving me yourself? Isn’t that kinda corny?”

“Yeah, but so are you,” Sam teases. “Open it.”

Gabe opens the envelope and pulls out his card, which pictures a misty watercolor pair of wings and golden halo over a backdrop of blue and purple flowers. At the top, in scrawling, red-foil letters, it says ‘Happy Birthday, Angel…” Gabe raises an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugs and motions for him to look inside. Ignoring the folded papers that fall out when he opens the card, Gabe sees cartoon devil-horns, black leathery wings and a tail, above which is written ‘Thought you might want to try some cosplay’. “Pfft, cute,” he chuckles, fingers brushing over the ‘love, Sam’ signed at the bottom.

“Thought you’d like it,” Sam replies, leaning over to plant a kiss on Gabe’s temple.

“I do,” Gabe grins, picking up the papers that had fallen out. “What’s this?” he asks as he unfolds them and reads.

“They came around two weeks ago. I wanted to surprise you.”

Looking over the test results from the doctor, Gabe turns his wide eyes on Sam. “Does this mean…”

“Yeah, if you want. Tonight, I’m all yours, any way you want me, no condoms needed,” Sam blushes.

Grin spreading, Gabe sighs happily, sliding out from under the covers to straddle Sam’s towel-wrapped lap. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” he says, resting his forearms on Sam’s shoulders, fingers digging into his thick mane. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Maybe you saved a god in a past life or something,” Sam laughs.

“To get this much karma, it must have been a pretty high-ranking god,” Gabe replies, joining Sam’s laughter. “So… can I open my present now?”

“Any way you want,” Sam grins.

“Ooh, you need to stop giving me carte blanche. One of these days you’re going to regret it,” Gabe warns with a devilish smile.

“Not likely,” Sam chuckles. “Even when you’ve had free reign, you’ve never done anything that didn’t feel amazing for both of us.”

“Hmm… give me too much leeway, next time you make yourself my present I might insist the only thing I want wrapped up is this,” Gabe says, grabbing Sam’s left hand and kissing his ring finger.

Sam’s involuntary, sharp intake of breath is concurrent with the one Gabe takes to add something flippant, but Sam speaks before the shorter man can make light of the serious comment. “Like I said, you haven’t steered us wrong so far.”

“Does that mean, when I do ask, you’ll say yes?” Gabe implores, heart skipping a beat in his chest.

“It means, even though I’ve stopped worrying about ‘the plan’, it doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you, and us. So far, I love being with you, and you seem to love being with me. We haven’t had enough time and experience together yet to know how we’ll handle challenges, and I’m still not quite convinced that you would really be able to not sleep with anyone else ever again, for the rest of your life. But you aren’t asking right now. I doubt either of us would ask before we’re ready. I mean, you’re the one who pointed out some of the things I was doing wrong before; it stands to reason you’d be wise enough to know when the time is right. And I’ve learned my lesson too,” Sam replies.

“I want you, Samshine. Whatever we face, I know we’ll work through it together, but you’re right, we need time to prove that to ourselves. And as for me straying, no worries there; you’ve ruined me for anyone else. You’re so perfect for me, no one could ever compare. Unless you’ve got an identical twin somewhere with the same personality who’s around six inches shorter,” Gabe teases.

Sam chuckles. “Does my insurance cover height reductions?”

Gabe grins. “You think bartenders get health insurance?”

“Only when they’re sleeping with the owner?”

“Damn skippy,” Gabe laughs, pulling the bow off Sam’s head and sticking it onto his nose. When Sam goes cross-eyed looking at it, he cracks up even harder. “Speaking of… I think I had a present to unwrap,” he grins, licking his lips.

Sam gasps as Gabe pulls the towel loose, hands pinning the taller man’s hips, and leans down to tongue over his head. “Gabe, it’s your birthday. I should be the one making you feel good,” he says, pulling the bow off his nose and sticking it on top of Gabe’s head. Having lost most of its adhesive, the bow slides off as the shorter man looks up.

“You _are_ making me feel good, Sammich. Now, shut up and behave. You said I could do what I want; I want to taste you,” Gabe smirks before going back to flicking his tongue over the head of Sam’s cock. Teasing the tip every way he can think of, he delights in the way Sam’s hips strain against his grip, trying to get him to do more. Grinning, he blows cool air over the wet head, eliciting a moan and more straining against his hold. “Hmm… think you can come like this?” Gabe asks, taking just the tip into his mouth and sucking hard.

Sam whimpers. “Gabe, please.”

“That wasn’t an answer,” Gabe states as his tongue and lips go back to teasing.

“I can’t! Not like this, I… I need more,” Sam begs, trembling.

“Hmm…” Gabe muses as he continues his attention on the head of Sam’s cock. The sound of his boyfriend’s continuous whimpers sends thrills of delight through him. “More, huh? Nope, I don’t think so, babe. Not yet, at least. My choice tonight; I’m not going to touch you. For now. I want to watch you open yourself up for me, then ride my cock however you like. No touching yourself though. I wanna see if you can come on my cock,” Gabe grins, climbing off Sam’s lap, pulling the covers down, putting the huge towel they’ve adopted for easy clean-up purposes over the sheets, and laying down. Propped up on pillows for easy viewing, he puts his hands behind his head and wriggles his eyebrows at Sam.

“You’re a sadist,” Sam complains, though there’s no heat in the accusation. He reaches into the far night-stand drawer, pulls out the lube, and squeezes some onto his fingers.

“Hey, now, there’s a difference between a sadist and a dom; I get off on getting you off, not causing pain,” Gabe corrects, chuckling. “Not like that,” He adds as Sam moves his hand behind him. “Turn around. I want to watch you fingering yourself.” He chuckles when he hears another mumbled ‘sadist’ as his lover turns around, twisting so he can watch Gabe over his shoulder as he slides a finger into his own hole, whimpering at the tightness. Though he knows Sam doesn't really like doing it himself, Gabe can't help but love the fact he's willing to do it anyway, for him. "Pretend it's me; my finger sliding inside, teasing around that tight ring of muscle. Relax for me, babe. Do you know how much I love seeing you like this; opening yourself up for me and knowing my thick, hard cock is gonna fill you up and make you moan?"

Whimpering, Sam pushes his finger in further, rocking onto it, trying to hit his prostate.

"Can't reach on your own? Add another finger. That's it. I know you're aching for relief, but you won't get it 'til you make that tight hole pliant and ready. Gonna ram that sweet ass of yours onto my cock, feel me hitting that sweet spot over and over 'til you spill your load. I'm leaking, just watching you finger yourself. Can't wait to feel that tight heat. Bet you can't wait either, can you? First time riding me; first time you'll be in complete control of how deep, hard, fast, I fuck you." Gabe croons, smiling at the sight of his lover, back arched, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he rocks his ass onto his fingers, adding a third with obvious impatience. "Whoa, there, Sam," Gabe cautions when the taller man removes his fingers with a growl and crawls over to Gabe, eyeing his waiting cock hungrily. "That prep was a bit fast. I don't think you're read-" he cuts off with a strangled cry as Sam quickly smears some lube over his cock, lines up, then impales himself on Gabe's thick length.

"Holy fuck," Sam breathes in a slow exhale as his eyes close, head falling back. Gabe's hands whip out from behind his head to grip Sam's hips, holding him still. "Hey, I thought you weren't gonna touch me," Sam frowns, eyes coming open as he wriggles against the restraining hands.

"You ok, Sam?" Gabe asks, worried voice coming out broken, 'cause damn, Sam's so fucking tight.

"I would be, if you'd let me move," Sam growls, circling his hips as much as Gabe's tight hold allows.

"Babe, as amazing as this feels, I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself. You didn't prep enough; you need more time to adjust."

"I know what I can handle, Gabe. Now put those hands back behind your head. You said your choice tonight was no touching, so don't touch. Or do I need to get out the handcuffs?"

Raising an eyebrow, Gabe does as instructed, smirking up at Sam. "Fine, but no whining when you're sore tomorrow," he warns. While he's seen Sam begging, following directions, sweet and slow, fast and hard, being taken apart piece by piece under Gabe's skilled ministrations, this is a side of his lover he's never seen; a very arousing side.

"The good kind of sore that'll remind me how amazing I'm about to make you feel," Sam smirks, hips sliding sloooowly up, then slamming back down, dragging a loud moan from the birthday boy. Taking his time experimenting, Sam tests out different angles, circling his hips, watching Gabe's reactions intently to discern what feels best for the both of them.

Gabe isn't sure which is harder; keeping his hands off Sam, or holding his tongue so the taller man can enjoy discovering the pleasures of having control. In this position, pretty much everything is good for Gabe, so Sam just has to find the angle that- Sam cries out as he hits his prostate. Grinning up at the taller man, Gabe bucks his hips up, hitting the spot again. He may not be touching or giving direction, but that doesn't mean he can't move or add the sounds of his own pleasure to Sam's. Angle perfected, Sam begins riding him in earnest, large hands splayed over Gabe's chest for balance as he rocks down hard onto the hot cock filling him. The joy of watching his lover go to town is even more intense without the usual condom separating their flesh. It isn't long before Gabe is meeting Sam thrust for thrust, hands having slid from behind his head of their own accord, though he tangles them in the sheets to keep from touching. "Sam... babe... so good," Gabe moans, struggling to keep his eyes open so he can watch his lover when all they want to do is close so he can drown in the sensation of moving; bare, hot, hard, fast, and deep. "You're so damn hot. So close, aren't you. Hovering at the edge, twitching and pulsing with need. How's it gonna feel when I fill your ass with my come? You want it, right? Want me to let go, deep inside you, connected more fully than ever before. Gonna come for me Sam?"

"Gabe, I want... I need... So close, but I can't..."

"You can do it babe, you're right there. Imagine my mouth on your cock again, flicking over the head, teasing, so good, so intense without quite being enough, but it is. It is, because now I'm finally, finally swallowing you down deep, moist heat swallowing your gorgeous cock down to the base, swallowing arou-" 

Sam cries out, back arching, body going rigid, tightening around Gabe's thick cock as he paints white strips up his abs and chest.

"Fuck yeah! So good, Sam, so amazing," Gabe cries, finally allowing himself to touch. Fingers digging into his lover's hips, he continues thrusting up, hard, fast and deep, burying his cock to the hilt only a few heartbeats later as he fills Sam with the evidence of his pleasure. Grinning, he finally gives attention to his lover's cock, stroking him through the last, shuddering eruptions and sending tremors through the taller man's body.

"Sadist," Sam whimpers, tightening further around Gabe's spent cock as he trembles on top of the smaller man.

Chuckling, Gabe relents, moving his hands to Sam's thighs instead, rubbing lightly in tender reverence. "That make you a masochist? Because you can't tell me you didn't love the hell out of that."

"I can, it'd just be a lie," Sam grins, gingerly raising up to let Gabe's spent length slide out of him. Blushing as he feels moisture dribbling down his thigh, Sam lets himself fall to the bed beside Gabe, somehow managing to land on his back.

Swiping a finger through the come on his chest, Gabe presses it to Sam's lips, then licks the rest off himself.

"Ugh, Gabe, tell me you did not just-"

"Hey, it's a rite of passage, babe. Your first time coming untouched," he shrugs, using a corner of the towel beneath them to wipe up the rest of the mess. "Best. Birthday. Ever." Gabe smiles, snuggling up against the taller man and tracing a finger over his chest. 

Sam chuckles, giving in and licking his own taste off his lips. "And it's only just beginning."

"Oooh, you have more presents for me Samshine?"

"Just two. Only one of them today though; the wrap-able present you get to open at the party on Saturday."

"Ok, so what's the other present for today?"

"Me."

"Didn't we just do that one?"

"I meant me, at your beck and call, anything you want, all day," Sam laughs.

"There you go giving me free rein again," Gabe grins against Sam's chest.

"Yeah, there I go, trusting you again," Sam counters.

Gabe sighs contentedly. "I love that you trust me. And there is something I'd like you to spend the day doing for me, but I'd rather it be on Saturday."

"What did you have in mind?" Sam asks suspiciously.

"Be my husband for a day? Just pretend, of course. I think hosting the party together as a 'married couple' (Gabe makes one-handed air quotes with the hand that had stilled over Sam's heart, the other being trapped between their bodies) would be good experience for us. Pretty sure everyone who's gonna be there already knows we're dating, so it should be fine, right?"

"Your family doesn't know?" Sam points out, not really a question.

"They don't, but it's not like they'll show anyway; they never do. Mom and Dad are on vacation in Africa right now, Raph's wherever-the-hell-he's-posted, and Mike and Luke are both busy with their companies," Gabe replies.

"That's really what you want? Because, you know, as your husband, I wouldn't just do everything you say, even on your birthday."

"I wouldn't expect you to. But if you don't want to be my fake husband, it's fine. Maybe we're not ready for that yet."

"Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't do it," Sam protests.

"No, but you seem to be looking for excuses not to," replies Gabe.

"It's just... not what I thought you'd want," Sam says, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. "I'm fine with it. Better than being tied up in bed all day."

"Ooh, that's-"

"No take-backs," Sam interrupts with a grin, tugging the covers with his toes until they're close enough to grab. 

"We should clean you up first," Gabe yawns as Sam tucks the covers around them.

Grabbing a fistful of tissues blindly from the nightstand, Sam rolls over, pinning Gabe beneath him in the process, and cleans up the best he can. Then he flops back onto his back, tossing the tissues to the floor in the general direction of the waste-basket. Of course there's still some left inside, but Sam's ok with that. He just doesn't want to have to move.

Groaning as he's crushed by the larger man, Gabe snuggles back against him once Sam's flopped back over, head on his shoulder, hand over his heart. He chuckles softly. "I've been squashed by a Samsquatch." Sam's soft laugh is music to his ears as he nuzzles contentedly against the taller man. "So... did you like it? Going bare?"

"You know, I thought it might be kinda gross, being on the receiving end, but... yeah. Skin on skin was amazing, and I think I like that there's still some of you inside me. Even if it is a little uncomfortable. Next time, can I be the one coming inside you?"

"Sure, babe," Gabe yawns. "Afterward, we can compare notes."

Sam smacks his shoulder lightly. "Go to sleep."

Gabe has a retort to that, somewhere in his lethargic mind, but he drifts off before he can fully compose, let alone articulate it.

 

*****

 

“… would think the current value has to be at least two hundred fifty thousand, even with the distance from the city," Cas is saying as Sam comes out of the kitchen.

"You haven't seen the pool yet. It's probably closer to 300k," Sam comments, coming up and giving Gabe a peck on the cheek, only jumping a little when Gabe squeezes his ass in response. Maybe agreeing to play spouses for the day wasn’t the best idea. Sam hides his embarrassment by offering Cas a tour, leading him upstairs and away from his blush-inducing ‘husband’.

Cas shows a decent amount of interest in the house as Sam opens doors to the various rooms, explaining their use or how they've been remodeled. Not that Sam was around when the house had been spruced up, but Gabe, having noticed his interest, had given Sam the same tour the day after he moved in. The old dwelling is on the large side and feels even larger due to Gabe's efficient use of space. Upstairs, south of the hall is dedicated to the master; large bedroom accessible via the door to the left at the top of the steps, doors to the bathroom and walkthrough closet across from the bed, office reachable through the closet, though it also has a door opening to the eastern end of the wide hallway. The north side of the house has three bedrooms, Sam's door across from Gabe's, bathroom between it and the next guest room, and a third, slightly larger bedroom at the front, north-east corner of the house. 

On the main floor, a large living room takes up much of the south side of the house, the only other features on that side being a laundry room with a side door leading out toward the detached garage, and a small guest bathroom, both accessed from doors under the upstairs landing. The north side of the house boasts an elegant formal dining room at the front (closed off from the kitchen which is unusual for a recent remodel), accessed through a door just before the kitchen. As for the kitchen, it has no door, because there's no wall between it and the hallway. The round kitchen table is nestled in the corner made by the east and north walls, and the appliances and counters are in an L along the west and north walls. Past the north walls are two doors, one on the left (west) leading to the pantry, and one on the right (east) giving access to the basement, a window between them adding light. Down the stairs, Cas marvels at the huge game room which not only boasts a pool table, but pinball machines and arcade games as well. Not to mention the huge tv with multiple console systems and floor to ceiling shelves full of games and dvds. 

When the doorbell rings, Sam leads the way back upstairs, promising to invite Cas and Dean sometime to enjoy the game room.

"Hey, babe, I got it," Gabe says to Sam as they get back to the main hallway, kissing the taller man quickly as he passes. "Can you make sure the snacks and drinks are set?"

"Sure," Sam replies, opening the back door which leads to the giant new pool room, and holding it for Cas. "Hon," he adds, almost belatedly, as Gabe is about to open the door for the new guests. Sam rushes after Cas, trying not to blush. Other than adding a few pet names for Gabe, and maybe a little more touching (on Sam's part; Gabe already touches him every chance he gets) 'playing married' really isn't much different than how they normally are, and Sam isn't quite sure how to interpret that. But then, maybe that was part of why Gabe requested it.

"Hey. You guys gonna swim?" Dean asks as Sam and Cas are checking over the refreshment table. He holds out a bag of swim stuff to Cas.

"I don't think so. At least, not right now," Cas says, taking the offered bag and setting it under the snack table.

"I'm going to wait 'til everyone gets here. Don't want to leave all the host duties to the birthday boy," Sam replies, smiling as he sees Gabe creeping up behind Dean.

Gabe taps Dean on his left shoulder, and Dean turns right, just as Gabe predicted. When Dean turns, Gabe gives him a firm push from behind. 

"Wha-" Dean starts, then finishes when he manages to surface, sputtering and turning to see Gabe doubled over with laughter. "Hey, what the hell was that for?"

"For fun?" Gabe replies, laughing even harder at the look on Dean's face. Sam snaps a picture with his phone, as do Charlie and Meg, who have just been escorted to the pool by Gabe.

"That didn't seem very safe," Cas frowns as Dean makes his way to the ladder and climbs out. "You do know, as owner of the pool, you're liable for any injuries sustained, right?"

"Got that covered," Gabe grins, pointing to a sign that reads, 'owners not responsible for losses, including but not limited to: personal property, blood, limbs, mobility, wages, balance, virginities, minds'. " 'Sides, Dean's not gonna whine about a little shove like that, are you, Dean?"

"I don't know. How much you think we could sue him for, Cas?" Dean jokes.

"Hmm, you weren't injured. We wouldn't get much. Think you can slip and fall back in, maybe crack your head open on the bottom of the pool? I don't see a 'slippery when wet' sign anywhere, that should net us a fortune. Well, me, at least. Not sure you'd survive between the bleeding out and knocking yourself unconscious underwater," Cas deadpans. Everyone laughs.

"Maybe you should be the one getting injured," Dean teases, approaching Cas as though preparing to toss him into the water.

"I'd rather not," Cas replies, sliding smoothly around the table and casually hooking an arm over a towel rack that's bracketed to the wall. Everyone laughs again, then the doorbell's ringing and Sam goes to answer this time.

"Chuck! Glad you could make it," Sam says as he opens the door.

"Me too," Chuck smiles nervously as he enters. "You haven't met my bandmates yet, have you?" he adds, introducing guitarist Billy Moran, bassist Michael Borja, and drummer Stephen Norton. Sam shakes hands with each then starts to close the door, but stops when he sees Garth coming up the steps with a set of drums. Opening the door wider, he ushers everyone in, gesturing them toward the back exit, beyond which is the pool.

"OMG, you booked Louden Swain to play your party?" Charlie exclaims as she and Meg come out of the changing room where they'd showered together.

"Better watch out, she's getting her fan-girl geek on," Meg chuckles.

"No, no, I didn't book them. They're guests. Why'd you bring your instruments, guys?" Gabe asks.

"Hey, if I have to sing 'Happy Birthday', I want to do it right. After all, I have years of missed birthdays to make up for," Chuck smiles sheepishly.

"Chuck, you're here to have fun, not to work," Gabe replies.

"For us, work _is_ fun," Chuck shrugs with a grin. "Don't worry, we'll be sure to enjoy the pool first."

"You'd better," Gabe insists, pointing them toward the changing rooms before going to answer the door again. He comes back a few minutes later with Pamela, Asa, and a couple cute teenagers in tow, whom Asa introduces as his kids, Max and Alicia.

"Wow, they're gonna be heartbreakers when they grow up," Sam comments as the teens head for the changing rooms. "How old are they?"

"Fifteen; they're twins. And they're already heartbreakers. They both ditched their boyfriends today and begged their mom to let them 'visit their dad', once _someone_ blabbed that Louden Swain was going to be here," Asa replies with a pointed look at Pamela.

"You know you wanted to spend some time with them, I was just helping arrange it," Pamela grins.

"So they don't live with you?" Sam asks.

"Nah. Their mom and I had a ‘friends with benefits’ thing years ago... wound up with a couple extra benefits," Asa grins. "But I'm away a lot for work, so I try to see them as much as I can when I'm home."

"What has you traveling so much? You in sales or something?"

"Kinda. I deal in antiquities and artifacts."

"Whoa, wait, you mean like raiders type stuff?" Dean interjects, eyes going wide.

"Minus the hat, but yeah, kinda like that. And less tombs, more traipsing across the globe chasing down leads. There's a lot more research involved than the movies suggested. Still fun though."

"Cool, you gotta tell me all about it. Ever meet up with any Lara Croft types?" Dean gushes, eyes sparkling with interest.

"No one hot as Angelina Jolie, but I've definitely come across my fair share of cute smart chicks. And believe me, they're dynamite in the sack," Asa laughs.

The laughter is interrupted by the doorbell. It’s Sam’s turn to answer, and he returns followed by Jo, Ash, Ellen, and Bobby. There's another round of introductions, more use of the changing rooms, and then everyone is in the pool, playing and having fun. Even Cas gets his suit on, when Dean says he needs one more on his team for the game of volleyball that starts up in the shallower end. 

A few hours later, the doorbell rings again and Sam, assuming it's the pizzas they had pre-ordered, wraps a towel around his waist and goes to answer while everyone climbs out of the pool and begins drying off.

When Sam opens the door, there's no pizza in sight. Three men stand on the porch, one tall, with short, spikey, bleach-blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and lightly tanned skin, one a couple inches shorter with dark hair, intense blue eye, and fair skin, and one almost as tall as the tallest, skin tanned almost as dark as his crew-cut hair, and brown eyes with a critical gaze. "Can I help you?" he asks, hiding his towel and trunks clad but practically naked body behind the door as he takes in the up-scale casual prep dress of the three men, suspicion dawning.

"Yeah, we're looking for our little brother. This is Gabe's house, isn't it?" the tallest replies.

"Oh, of course. You must be Luke, Mike, and Raph?" he says, nodding at each in turn and guessing right. While he hasn't seen any recent pictures of them, he's been told enough by Gabe to tell who's who. "Please, come in," Sam invites, "I'll go get Gabe." It's probably a faux pas, but he leaves them standing in the hallway while he runs back to the pool. "Your brothers are here," he hisses to Gabe under his breath as he yanks a tee over his head, loses the towel, and pulls his boyfriend to the door.

"Sam, calm down. Breathe," Gabe says, squeezing Sam's hand as they enter the house. "They're not as scary as they look, really."

"But do they even know we're-" Sam cuts off his whisper as they get within hearing range of the brothers.

"Hey, guys, didn't think you'd actually make it," Gabe says, gripping Sam's hand tighter when he tries to take it back.

"Hey, it's not every day your baby bro turns thirty. Of course we came," Luke replies.

"Luke insisted," Mike clarifies. "I tried to tell him it was more of a friends party, but you know how he is."

"I was just visiting them while on leave, and they dragged me along," Raph adds.

"No, I'm glad you came," Gabe insists, releasing Sam's hand long enough to hug each in turn, grinning at the water he drips on them, which they all pointedly pretend to ignore. "Sam," he adds as the taller man starts to sneak back toward the party, "meet my brothers. Luke, Mike, Raph, this is my boyfriend and house-mate, Sam Winchester."

Blushing up to his ears, Sam shakes hands with each in turn. Though he's taller than all of them, Sam hasn't felt this small since he was 12. "I should go give an update on the food situation. Besides, I'm sure you'll want time to catch up," he says, trying to make his escape. When Gabe clears his throat pointedly, Sam stops with a soft sigh, blush deepening as he turns back to his lover, giving him a chaste kiss. "Take your time, hon, I'll hold down the fort," he murmurs softly.

Gabe leans up to brush his lips over Sam's ear. "Thanks, babe. Don't worry, they aren't as scary as they look. And they want me to be happy and healthy; that's why they helped me get the bar, and that's why they'll love you almost as much as I do," he whispers, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck. 

Sam reciprocates, enveloping Gabe's waist automatically, mind buzzing. After a few moments, he steps away, fingers trailing along Gabe's arm until distance separates them, giving his lover the physical contact he needs. When he goes back to the pool, he turns to close the door, taking a moment to gain some semblance of composure, as well as a last glimpse of Gabe with his brothers, starting to show them around the house. Gabe, who just said the 'L' word without a second thought. But they were both in their spousal role-play, so... had it just been a part of the act, or an unconscious slip? And how much does he really mean it? Not that it's completely unexpected, just, neither of them had said it yet. They both knew it was there, just... Sam wishes he had more than a few moments to reflect, but there's a room full of people waiting for him to turn around, so he schools his features and does. "Sorry, wasn't the pizza," he announces with what he hopes is a genuine smile. "Should be here soon though; any time now." In an attempt to avoid awkward questions, he heads over to his brother.

“What’s up?” Dean asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Remember when I laughed when you told me how you met Cas’s parents on his birthday?”

“Yeah, and I threatened to kick your ass ‘cause it wasn’t funny. More like terrifying. And embarrassing.” Dean replies.

“Yeah, and I get that now, completely,” Sam says, still looking a bit disconcerted despite his best efforts.

“Wait, was that Gabe’s parents at the door?” Dean queries, eyebrows raised.

“Worse. His brothers.”

“How are brothers worse than parents?”

“You haven’t met them. Did Gabe ever tell you about them?” Sam asks. He's actually more freaked out about Gabe than his brothers, but it's a good cover for his obvious fluster.

“Not much, other than mentioning they helped him get the bar,” Dean replies.

“They’re… very intimidating. Two business moguls, with a fierce rivalry between them, and a high-ranking army officer. Gabe invited them, of course, but he hadn’t thought they’d show. Especially Raph; we didn’t know he was on leave.”

“Aren’t they close?”

“I’m not sure. I think they are, in some ways, but not like you and me.”

At that point, Gabe returns, the three men following behind him. Introductions this time seem a bit more formal, Gabe abnormally subdued without his usual joviality. The party takes on a different air after that. Next ring of the doorbell is the expected pizza and people begin eating, milling about and talking, conversation stalling whenever one of Gabe’s older brothers approaches, then resuming under the brother’s guidance. Maybe it’s just prejudice against the rich, but no one seems comfortable around any of Gabe’s brothers, not even Lucifer, who comes across as friendly and more approachable than Mike or Raph. Well, almost nobody. Pamela is never uncomfortable around anyone, so she converses individually with all three at length, probably psychoanalyzing them. 

Chuck knows Gabe’s brothers already, having spent a large portion of his teenage years at Gabe’s house, since they were best friends back then. However, knowing them doesn’t make them any less intimidating to the nervous man. He avoids having to make small talk by gathering his band-mates and starting up a small concert for Gabe. Tension finally eases as the music starts, Charlie, Alicia, and Max quickly forming a cheering audience that others join one by one.

Around eight, the band takes a break for cake, ice cream, and presents. The gifts from Gabe’s parents and brothers are all far more expensive than anything else Gabe gets. Even so, his favorite present is from Sam, a cookbook exclusively full of strawberry recipes. The assortment of gourmet dessert toppings from Dean and Cas is a close second. His Family’s gifts; a tailored Armani suit from his parents, a rolex watch from Mike, and expensive cuff-links from Raph, are quite nice, but not his style at all. Only Luke’s gifts, a joke book, a book of gags and pranks, and a top-of-the-line new stereo for the Corvette, show any knowledge of the youngest brother’s tastes.

While Louden Swain's second set starts up, Gabe takes Sam's hand, leading him away from the concert to some chairs in a quieter corner where his brothers soon join them.

"Great party, little bro. Looks like that Chuck really made something of himself; who woulda guessed?" Luke says.

"Hey, he's always had talent," Gabe protests. "Even if he was too afraid of pretty much everything to acknowledge it."

"I thought there'd be more people here," Mike comments, not meaning it to sound as derogatory as it comes across.

"Sure, I could have invited everyone I know, but for my first pool party, I wanted just close friends," Gabe counters.

"Yeah, but it's the big three-oh, shouldn't you be milking it for all it's worth?" Luke suggests.

Gabe shrugs. "I'm happy keeping it more intimate. Not like I need extra presents," he says, fingers ghosting over Sam's bare arm.

"I'm surprised Mother and Father didn't insist on a big party at the corporate headquarters," says Michael.

"Like they'd want to show me off to their business acquaintances," Gabe scoffs. "You know they don't approve of the choices I've made."

"Yeah, but it's not like they've disowned you," Luke points out.

"Not legally, but in all other respects, they pretty much have," replies Gabe.

"They sent you a present," Raph chimes in.

"Yeah, a suit they know I'll never wear that says, 'this is who you should've been'," Gabe frowns.

"You know they mean well, they're just... a bit inflexible," Mike soothes.

"Hey, families aren't perfect, but they don't have to be. You all love each other and that's what's important, right?" Sam interjects, hoping to keep the peace.

"True," Gabe smiles, kissing Sam's cheek. He changes the subject, asking his brothers about their businesses and deployment, telling them how the bar is doing. Business has been booming since adding the extra karaoke and the open mic night is especially popular. His praise of the original poems Sam has read on the few slower Wednesday open mic nights has the tall man blushing as the conversation shifts focus onto him. Gabe's brothers ask what he does, and why he switched from law to journalism, and how old he is, and how he wound up with a sugar-daddy a decade older. Sam hadn't even realized the age difference was so big, and the phrase 'sugar-daddy' has him bristling, but Gabe comes to his rescue, suggesting they all get some more swimming in. Luke joins them, Mike and Raph wandering over to where the concert is finishing up and people are starting to head back to the pool as well.

It’s well after midnight before things start winding down, Ellen dragging Jo and Ash out of the pool to rinse off, change, and get ready to go. Chuck and the band reluctantly dry off shortly after, since they have a recording session the next afternoon. Max and Alicia follow, though Chuck politely declines their jail-bait offer to help him get changed. Everyone else exits the pool too, then there are hugs and handshakes, a couple of autographs from all the band members for the twins, and promises to keep in touch or see each other soon. By quarter after one, the only guests left are Garth, Dean and Cas, who help clean up.

Garth folds up the chairs, Sam and Dean taking them to their storage closet.

"So, Dean, did you have fun?" Sam asks while they work.

"Hells yeah. That pool's amazing. Shit, the whole house is great. Now I'm kinda glad that you ignored my warning about Gabe," Dean replies.

"Not like he wouldn't have invited you even if he and I weren't together. You two've been friends for ages," Sam points out.

"I wasn't talking about the free pool use. You and Gabe are good for each other. Don't know if I've ever seen you smile as much as you have been since you two hooked up. And if you weren't around, I doubt he'd have bothered having the party at his place; he probably woulda had it at the bar. Hell, I doubt he'd’ve even put the pool in if it hadn't been for you. Before last spring, the bar was his whole life."

"Yeah. I don't want to jinx it, but so far, things've been pretty great. We've spent the whole summer practically in each other's pockets, though. Not sure how things'll be now that college has started," Sam worries as they finish with the chairs and start wiping down tables so they can fold them up and put them in with the chairs.

"Nothing wrong with having lives separate from each other," Dean points out.

"No, I know that, just... it's odd. I've gotten used to spending most of our time together."

"Dunno, with Cas, it's like... thinkin' about him while I'm at work makes the time go faster, and it's nice having something to look forward to when I get home. Seems to me like it'd be harder spending every moment together. If we did that, I'm sure I'd get on Cas's nerves."

"It's weird. Gabe's like, this overwhelming presence, but when I'm with him, I don't feel overwhelmed, I feel cocooned; safe. The few days I had classes last week, it felt like part of me was missing. Jess and I... it was never like that with her. It was comfortable. With Gabe, it's comfortable when we're together, but there's also happiness and passion and fun, and worry, and anxiety, and need."

Dean laughs. "You got it bad, man."

"Got what?"

"Love sickness. And there's no cure."

Sam shrugs. "I can live with it. 'Sides, the medicine's easy to come by," he grins as they finish putting the tables away.

With another laugh, Dean says, "Why do I get the feeling you're due for a dose?"

"Because I am?" Sam replies, grin widening.

"Yeah, yeah, go find your boy-toy. Garth and I can finish up in here."

 

*****

“True, but I’ve kind of always liked horses, even though I’ve never ridden one.”

“Gabe, we are _not_ getting horses; I’d get stuck taking care of them,” Sam says, entering the kitchen.

“We were talking about Cas and Dean getting horses,” Gabe explains.

“If they stabled them here it’d be the same thing; I’d wind up having to take care of them,” Sam retorts.

“No, we were talking about if Dean and I got the next house over,” Cas clarifies.

“Wait, you and Dean are moving next door?” Sam exclaims, face lighting up.

“Gabe and I were just talking about the possibility. Dean and I haven’t discussed it yet.”

“Haven’t discussed what?” Dean asks as he comes into the kitchen.

“Moving into the next house over,” Cas replies.

“Oh. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Dean says, going to Cas and leaning in, then kissing his cheek when he seems ok with it. “I noticed on the way here that it’s for sale. Thought things might be better if we had a bit more space.”

“Gabe’s been pointing out the benefits. It’s a tempting idea, though I’m sure I’d miss living in the city.”

“Maybe you could stay here for a week, see how you like it?” Sam suggests.

“Sam, that’s not-“ Gabe and Dean start at the same time, before breaking into laughter at the concurrent protests.

“Sharing a roof with your brother and his lover might be a bit uncomfortable for one or both of you,” Cas explains.

“Oh,” Sam blushes. “Right. Hadn’t thought about that.”

“We could always get the house, fix it up, try living there for a few weeks, and if we don’t like it we’d be able to sell it for a profit. If we like it, we stay and terminate our leases on our apartments,” Dean offers.

“Sell,” Cas corrects.

“What?”

“My apartment. I own it. So we’d sell it, or maybe rent it out,” Cas explains.

“Really? I mean, I know it’s not huge, but it is two bedrooms, and it’s in a high demand area. How much you have left on your mortgage?” Dean asks, surprised. He’d always assumed Cas was renting. After all, he’s only five years older, and Dean isn’t anywhere close to being ready to buy a… well, he hadn’t been ready to buy a place, till after he’d met Cas. Is he really ready now, though? Looking at Cas he realizes, yes, he is.

“I never had a mortgage. Borrowing money is inefficient,” Cas replies.

“Then how did you buy it?” Dean asks.

“Technically, I didn’t. My trust owns it. I suppose the trust would have to decide what to do with it if I move,” Cas explains.

“Cas… are you rich?”

Sam catches Gabe's eye and nods toward the door. In silent agreement, they both slip out in silence while Cas and Dean are talking. When they get out to the pool room, Garth is coming out of the last changing room.

"Just makin' sure nothing'd been left behind," He grins, looking around the room for anything else that needs tidying up.

"Thanks, Garth. I really appreciate the help with the cleanup," Gabe smiles. Goofy kid's definitely grown on him over the past couple months.

"Any time, compadre. Parties are always better with help cleanin' up afterwards. Guess I should get ta headin' home though" Garth says, stifling a yawn.

"Thanks for coming, Garth. Hope you had a good time?" Sam says as they head toward the front door.

"The best!" Garth grins.

"And thanks for the dreamcatcher. You did a great job on it," Gabe adds.

"Glad you like it. Y'might not need it right now with Sam to keep the bad dreams away, but I got this feeling you're gonna be using it within the next year," Garth replies cryptically, shrugging at Gabe's raised eyebrow. After a hug for each, the gangly man heads out to his Ranchero, and Sam and Gabe watch him go, an arm around each other, waving as he turns the car around and heads down the long driveway.

"...more when I finish the 30’s Bently rebuild, but not nearly enough to pay for half a house," Dean is saying as Sam and Gabe head back toward the kitchen. Looking at each other, they pause, wondering if they should give the couple more time to get past the money talks.

“Dean, that’s ridiculous. My money’s just sitting in the bank doing nothing. Besides, you’d have more money if you hadn’t had to waste it on rent and utilities in an apartment you hardly use anymore, just because I’m not used to living with someone,” Cas reasons.

“How about if Cas pays for the house and remodel, I do up the yard and barn for ya as a housewarming gift, and you do the decorating and buy the furnishings?” Gabe suggests to Dean as he leads Sam back into the kitchen.

“But that’s-“ Dean starts.

“How family works?” Gabe interrupts. “You both support and help each other in the ways that matter, money shouldn’t be an issue.”

“He’s right, Dean. You already do so much for me. More than I could ever have hoped for, and I love you. Won’t you let me do this for you?” Cas says.

Dean blinks. “That almost sounds like you’ve already made up your mind to buy the place.”

Cas blinks back. “Odd, I think I have. Usually I’d spend weeks, months thinking over a decision this big. Am I being too impulsive? Gabe brought up some good points, and I can just picture us living there. Don’t you think you’d want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it’d be awesome. But are you sure? I mean about living together, permanently? Like, forever?” Dean asks.

“I don’t think we’re going to live long enough to be there forever. But for the rest of our lives, yeah. Mom will love us being 45 minutes closer to them, too,” Cas replies.

“In that case, as long as we’re being impulsive, do you mind answering one more important question?” Dean adds.

Brows furrowed, Cas looks Dean curiously. “What question?”

Dean’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, shuffling from foot to foot nervously as he pulls his wallet from his back pocket and fumbles something out of it. Looking at Cas, he licks his lips, clearing his throat as he drops down to one knee. Sam’s eyes go wide, and Gabe claps his hands over his mouth to hold back the squeal of glee that wants to come out. Cas still looks confused until Dean holds up the paired rings and says, “Cas, will you marry me?”

Understanding dawns gradually over Cas’s face as his mouth slowly works itself into one of his rare, full, eye-crinkling smiles. “Dean, are you sure? Because I don’t believe in divorce,” he cautions.

“Cas, I’m sure. More than sure. No divorce, just you and me, together, always.”

“Then yes. Marrying you would make me very happy,” Cas answers, offering Dean his left hand. 

Dean slips the ring on, then hands Cas the other ring, holding his own left hand out. “They’re identical,” he comments as his boyfriend, no, fiancé, examines the ring before sliding it onto Dean’s finger. 

“They’re perfect. Just like you,” Cas says, taking both Dean’s hands and pulling him to his feet for a sweet, long kiss full of love.

Sam and Gabe manage to hold back for almost two full minutes before they’re clapping, rushing Dean and Cas to give them hugs and say how happy they are for them. 

"This calls for champagne!" Gabe suggests. 

Sam can see his brother needs time alone with his new fiancé, so he says, "It's late. I think maybe they should head home before Dean gets too tired to drive."

Gabe looks from Sam to his brother and back, then nods as understanding dawns. "Of course, I wasn't thinking. Hey, I'll contact the realtor for you, first thing Monday morning, see what's up with that house and when we can look at it."

"Yeah, thanks Gabe, that'd be great," Dean replies, leading Cas to the front door. "We'll stop by the bar Monday, after work, k?"

"Sure thing, Dean. You kids have a good day tomorrow," Gabe smirks.

"Countin' on it," Dean grins, smile softening to love as Cas takes his hand and leads him to the Impala.

Gabe wraps his arms around Sam's waist as they watch the car drive off. "Looks like they're gonna beat us to the altar."

"It's not a race," Sam chuckles, arms tightening around Gabe's shoulders.

"Nope. Long as we make it to the finish line, 's all good," Gabe sighs, nuzzling against Sam. 

"I have a feeling we'll get there," Sam smiles, rubbing his large hands soothingly over Gabe’s back and shoulders as they turn back into the house. "I realized today, playing husbands isn't much different from how we normally are," he adds.

"That's because we're just good together," Gabe smirks. "Y'know, even though the day's technically over, think maybe we can play husbands for a bit longer?"

"Why, what did you have in mind?" Sam asks.

"Feeling my 'husband' come inside me," Gabe grins.

"Ah. Well, I think I could be 'up' for that," Sam smirks, tugging his 'husband' toward the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my final decision on update schedules is; Forgotten Lies in a Dystopian Heaven will be updated every Monday, this one every other week on Monday. We’ll just have to see if I can handle that :D
> 
> [Mathematical Miracle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ed-WuTqF0_k&t=4s)   
>  [Heavenly Body Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tYNRi4S2vs&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWumf0mpWezPWlXnrS96FGVL)   
>  [Supernatural Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw6_VXPwm6U&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWvqcFahx2ABIAr9fwxFww2w)
> 
> As always, comments, questions, suggestions and corrections welcomed and encouraged!


	7. Take Me Home, Country Road part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Then you're good? With this? With us?"_   
>  _"Yes," Cas replies, a little clearer and a lot firmer._   
>  _"Awesome," Dean grins, leaning in to brush their lips together but stopping just shy of touching. "Crap. Not s'posed to kiss yet."_   
>  _"Didn't you just tell your brother we don't do ‘supposed to’?" Cas points out._   
>  _"Well, yeah, but that was about-"_   
>  _"And we haven't had sex in a week. If you're going to start denying me kisses too-"_   
>  _Dean cuts him off by pressing their lips together, firm, warm and chaste. "It's almost time. Feel better now?" Dean asks after a few moments._   
>  _Sighing, Cas tightens his arms around Dean, not ready to part yet. With silent understanding, Dean just holds him, cheeks together, chins resting on each other's shoulders._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Rating:** Explicit
> 
>  **Chapter Warnings:** excessively sappy-sweet (not paying dental bills if it rots your teeth :D )
> 
>  **Chapter Pairings:** Dean Winchester/Castiel (focus), Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters
> 
>  **Chapter Characters:** Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Gabe Himmler, Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Louden Swain, Jason Manns, Garth Fitzgerald, Pamela Barnes, Asa Fox, Max Banes, Alicia Banes, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Ash Harvelle (adopted), Amelia Novak, Pastor Jim
> 
>  **Chapter Tags:** Destiel, AU-modern setting, wedding, fluff, sweetness, top!dean, bottom!cas, shower sex, pillow talk
> 
> big thanks to [fangirlingtodeath513](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlingtodeath513/pseuds/fangirlingtodeath513) for being my beta on this :D

Frowning into the mirror, Cas adjusts his bowtie until it’s perfectly straight, both sides exactly equal. Charlie’s reflection appears beside his, watery eyes a contrast to her fond smile. Knowing she’s holding herself back from commenting on his obsessive concern for his tie, he turns and adjusts hers to give his fingers something else to fidget with.

“I’m glad you decided on colored tuxes. That midnight blue looks amazing on you,” Charlie smiles, voice wavering with emotion.

“I see no reason why everyone in a wedding shouldn’t look their best. Your forest green tux is perfect for you, too,” Cas smiles. The colored tuxes were actually Gabe’s idea; he’d practically grown up in black and white ‘penguin suits’, and insisted they break the mould. Dean had complained about cliché something (Cas didn’t get the reference), but when Gabe had described his idea (and insisted on paying), Dean had eventually agreed. Each tux has a different color theme, jackets and pants a very dark shade, cummerbunds and bowties a medium toned pastel, and shirts so light as to be almost white.

“Hey, what about me?” Meg pouts from where she’s standing near the tent’s opening. Her dark violet suit with lavender cummerbund and tie look great against her light complexion and dark hair, which is what Cas replies.

“I can’t believe, of everyone I know, you’re the first to be getting married,” Charlie sniffles, wiping moisture from under her eyes carefully to avoid smearing her makeup. Castiel just blinks at her, unsure what response to make. “I’m really, really happy for you, I just… I guess I thought you’d always be down the hall and under my wing. Are you sure you’re okay with this much change at once? Even though the remodeling somehow got done in time, that doesn’t mean you _have_ to move out here now, you know. Why not take a month or two -or ten- to get used to being married first?”

“Dean thought it might be better to adjust to all the changes at once. I think he’s right; it’s easier to make completely new patterns than to alter existing ones. For me, at least.”

“And how are you handling things? It’s mostly close friends and family, but I know that’s still a lot of people for you. Think you’ll be ok?” Charlie asks.

“No. But Dean will get me through it,” Cas replies honestly. Part of him balks at that thought. Is it fair to shackle Dean to a lifetime of helping Cas through things? Of dealing with his idiosyncrasies every day for years, decades, the rest of their lives? No, it isn’t fair. Not at all. Cas is… he has nothing to give Dean, no way to equal what he’s being given. All he can offer is love, devotion, and need. That isn’t nearly enough in return for how Dean has shaped himself so skillfully to fit into the empty pockets in Cas’s life without much disruption to his rigid routines. How can he want to keep bending himself to fit with Cas for the rest of their lives? How can he possibly allow Dean to make that kind of sacrifice? He wants this so much, but he wants Dean to be happy, too. Sure, he’s happy now, but what about a year from now? Five? Ten? Panic starting to clutch at his chest, Cas is struggling to keep his breathing slow and even, so he doesn’t hyperventilate, when he’s distracted by commotion outside.

Dean bursts into the tent, shrugging Sam’s grip off his shoulder, dragging Gabe, who has his arms locked around Dean’s waist.

“Dean, you’re not supposed to see each-“ Sam is saying.

“Cas and I don’t do ‘supposed to’ so…”

Somewhere in the back of his mind Cas registers the words, though the rest of what Dean says is lost as the relief at his presence overwhelms Cas. Three quick, stiff strides have him across the tent, arms wrapping around his fiancé-about-to-be-husband in a desperate, vice-like grip, trapping Gabe’s hands, which are still around Dean’s stomach, between them without even noticing.

As Sam tugs at the collar of Gabe’s dark dijon suit, Dean leans his hips back from Cas long enough for the shorter man’s arms to pull away. Then the grooms press back together as Charlie and Meg follow Dean’s best men out.

"Cas, you ok? Getting nervous?" Dean asks, thumbing away moisture from the corners of Cas’s eyes that he didn't know was even there.

Frowning, Cas thinks, examining his emotions. "Guilty. I think I'm feeling guilty, mostly." Dean opens his mouth to speak, but Cas continues on, fully aware what his almost-husband would say. "I know you love me; I _know_ that, but I'm not sure you realize... you know I'm always going to be like this, right? There's no magic pill to make my brain function normally. Is it really fair to put yourself through a whole lifetime of dealing with my issues?"

"I had a feeling you'd try to run again. Remember what happened last time? Four months of us both being miserable. And when we got together, you promised not to do that again. I don't need you to leave me an 'out'; I'm good. Great. We're great. Right?" he asks, leaning down a bit to steady Cas's sapphire gaze with his own emerald. 

Unable to deny the firm resolve in those eyes, Cas sighs, forehead falling forward to rest lightly against Dean's. "How do you always know just what I'm thinking and how to help me past my own pitfalls?"

Smiling, Dean shakes his head, causing their foreheads to roll together. "I don't always know, but when I _do_ know, it's because I love you so I pay attention. Pobody's nerfect." Cas smiles, and Dean gives him a wink. "There will be times when I mess up; times when I don't know what's wrong or how to help. When that happens, we'll work it out, together. The same way we'll face whatever the future brings us; together. I promise, I love every part of you, including your brain. This is what I want, so unless you have a legitimate reason for running away?"

"No," Cas croaks, clearing his throat that seems to have gotten choked up.

"Then you're good? With this? With us?"

"Yes," Cas replies, a little clearer and a lot firmer.

"Awesome," Dean grins, leaning in to brush their lips together but stopping just shy of touching. "Crap. Not s'posed to kiss yet."

"Didn't you just tell your brother we don't do ‘supposed to’?" Cas points out.

"Well, yeah, but that was about-"

"And we haven't had sex in a week. If you're going to start denying me kisses too-"

Dean cuts him off by pressing their lips together, firm, warm and chaste. "It's almost time. Feel better now?" Dean asks after a few moments.

Sighing, Cas tightens his arms around Dean, not ready to part yet. With silent understanding, Dean just holds him, cheeks together, chins resting on each other's shoulders.

 

*****

 

“Castiel James Novak, standing here with you today, this is about more than being able to be by your side if you’re in the hospital or joint tax returns, insurance, and other legal rights. It’s about being able to tell the world, with one word, that you are the one I will spend my life with. More than friend, partner, lover, companion… the one word that sums up all of that is husband. In this whole world, there’s no one I’d rather give that title to than you, which is why I’m so glad you said yes. I promise to love you, respect you, open you up to new experiences but only when you’re ready, and work with you to make our life together a wonderful one. Because as happy as you make me, I want to spend every day sharing that joy with you.”

“Dean Henry Winchester, I never thought I would find someone who could be with me for even a month, let alone a lifetime. You filled a hole in my life I’ve been stepping around for so long, I wasn’t even aware it was there until I no longer had anything to circumnavigate. You put up with months of me running away and didn’t give up on me when most people would have. I can’t promise to be perfect, and I know there will be times I frustrate you. But I also know you won’t let me run again. I know you love me. And I know I love you, more than I ever thought possible. I’m not certain I can ever be the man you deserve, but I can live with being the man you want. I promise to love you with every fiber of my being, and I promise to try; to let you lead us into a future where both our needs are met, and to never, ever, run again. I love you so much, Dean.”

*****

“Castiel, Dean, thank you for allowing me to officiate, and for inviting me to the reception. It’s a rare treat to be able to share that part of the wedding and see the couples I join share their joy with friends and family,” Pastor Jim says, the first in the reception line at Gabe and Sam’s.

“And the free food ain’t too bad either,” Dean grins, giving the pastor a wink.

“Well, that too,” Pastor Jim chuckles. “But seriously, though, seeing the love you two share; it’s exactly the kind of love Jesus hoped for all his Father’s children to find. I understand why you haven’t been back for another service after that first time, but I hope you know you are always welcome. It would do some of my parishioners good to see an example of a loving marriage between equals. Too many are still clinging to the way they were raised, thinking the wife’s place is to support and obey her husband rather than be an equal partner. It would be great for them to open their minds a bit and see what love is meant to be. So I really do hope you’ll come again, maybe even start attending regularly. But I understand if you don’t want to. As long as you’re living your lives well, being the good men I know you to be, Jesus doesn’t care whether you worship in his house or in your hearts.”

“Thank you, Pastor Jim. That really means a lot to me,” Cas replies, clasping the man’s hand firmly with both of his own.

“And we’ll definitely come to church again, just maybe give it a bit more time,” Dean adds, shaking his hand once Cas has released it. Pastor Jim smiles and heads down the hallway, where Sam is waiting to show him into the reception, Charlie, Meg, and Gabe already inside to take coats and lead guests to their tables.

“That was so beautiful, Sweetie,” Cas’s mother says as she steps forward, hands resting lightly on her son’s shoulders as she leans in to kiss his cheek, moisture glistening in her eyes.

“Thank you very much for being here, and for joining in the ceremony,” Cas replies, lips quirked up in his almost full smile. His mother had walked him from his dressing tent to the aisle, Bobby Singer doing the same for Dean from the opposite side. Then the parents had gone around the outsides of the seating as the grooms walked together up the petal-strewn lane. “You shouldn’t have had to-”

“Castiel, you can stop that thought right there. Even if your father hadn’t been a pig-headed bigot and come to the ceremony, I still would have wanted to walk with you. You’re my son, and I’m so proud of you. And Dean,” she says, moving to her new son-in-law and wrapping him in a warm hug, “Castiel deserves the best, and he definitely got that in you. Thank you so much for all you’ve done the past few months to bring us back into each other’s lives. Your texts and pictures showing him enjoying himself with friends have really meant the world to me.”

“No thanks needed, Mrs.- I mean Amelia. I’m just glad you’re back in Cas’s life. Besides, I love showing him off when he’s having fun,” Dean replies, returning the hug and kissing Mrs. Novak on the cheek.

Laughing, Cas’s mother says, “You still haven’t gotten used to calling me Amelia, and now I’m going to have to ask you to call me something different. If you don’t mind, that is. Would you call me Mom?”

Blinking back tears as he remembers how long it’s been since he called anyone Mom, Dean swallows and nods. “Thanks… Mom.”

Hesitantly, Cas turns toward his mother and his new husband, smile feeling as though it may never leave his face. Wrapping his arms around both, he pulls them close. “Thank you both for being in my life,” he says quietly.

Chuckling, Amelia wipes away her tears, laughing and crying more as her finger comes away smeared with black eyeliner. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to get away with wearing makeup today,” she hiccups. 

Dean points to the powder room under the stairs where she can freshen up before turning to Bobby, who is next in line to greet the couple.

“Can’t believe you went and tied the knot already. Made me dig out this old monkey suit, ya idjit. But I’m glad you found someone who makes ya happy, Dean. I know people are gonna give you advice all night and you’ll prob’ly just ignore it, but do yourselves a favor; don’t ever go to bed mad. Not to put a damper on your big day, but tomorrow ain’t a guarantee so never put off sayin’ what needs said.” Bobby claps a hand on each of their shoulders, then heads to the back door, where Sam ushers him through to the party.

“He’s right, you know,” Ellen comments, next in line. “And don’t be afraid to fight. If you two disagree about something, have it out. Don’t ignore your own needs thinking the other person’s more important. No one stays happy for long that way. And Dean, Cas, that really was a beautiful ceremony. Good thing the weather was nice enough to have it on the lawn. Havin’ the backdrop of your new home behind you as you said those wonderful vows was just…” Ellen chokes up, and pulls Dean and Cas together in a two-armed hug. “You two best be happy together, y’hear?” she adds shakily before dashing to the powder room Mrs. Novak is emerging from to regain her composure. Fortunately, she hadn’t been wearing any makeup to smear.

The line continues on, seemingly interminable to Cas, though everyone there is a friend. Jo, Ash, Garth, Pamela, Asa, Max, Alicia, Chuck and his band members, as well as his friend Jason, who’s in town for a recording session, a few of Dean’s friends who Cas doesn’t know well, and some of the other Karaoke/Open Mic Night regulars who’ve befriended them over the months. Cas knows it feels like more people than it really is, but even so, he’s wanting to run and hide long before the end of the line. Dean, of course, knows and squeezes his hand comfortingly, handling most of the talking. Once the line is gone, Cas turns to his new husband, who looks even more gorgeous than usual in his dark burgundy suit with pastel rose-colored accents and faintly pink shirt. Surrendering himself to the comfort of Dean’s arms, they just stand there as Cas takes slow, deep breaths to calm himself. He can taste his husband’s scent, the light soap he uses combined with just a trace of old spice.

“Hey, are you ok? If this is too much, we can skip the reception?” Dean offers.

“No, that would be rude. The party is for us; we have to be there,” Cas replies, burrowing deeper against Dean’s chest and wishing he could just stay wrapped in this protection.

“Hey, Cas, we don’t _have_ to do anything. If you need time, we can take time. Or if you’ve had enough for the day, we can call it a day. Our friends love us; they’ll understand if we wanna start the honeymoon early,” Dean assures.

“It’s okay. I’m okay now. Just need a couple more minutes, then we can go in,” Cas says, tilting his head up to brush a gentle kiss over his husband’s lips. As much as he hates playing normal, it’s so much easier with Dean by his side. 

“Good. It would’ve been a shame for you to miss the karaoke,” Dean grins giving his new husband a light, teasing kiss.

“There’s karaoke?” Cas asks, lighting up.

Dean laughs. “Do you really think a party in your honor wouldn’t have karaoke?”

“Hey, it’s as much your party as it is mine,” Cas points out, pulling away but taking Dean’s hand to lead him toward the back of Sam and Gabe’s house. They had originally planned to have both the wedding and reception at their own home, but Gabe insisted that they use his new party room. The pool had a firm plastic cover that slid closed to form a dance floor, and besides, if the weather turned out bad and the wedding had to be held inside Cas and Dean’s house, they’d have to wait to set up the reception until after the wedding. Not to mention there wasn’t enough space for a decent dance area and the acoustics weren’t suited to live music.

“And getting to hear you sing is as much for me as it is for you,” Dean replies as Cas opens the door. The shower of glitter and confetti that greets them invades his mouth at the tail end of his statement and Dean finds himself sputtering and trying to spit the stuff out. Cas is frozen in the doorway, blinking in confusion and Dean squeezes their still-clasped hands in concern and reassurance. “Gabe, you do know you’re supposed to do that _after_ the reception, right?”

“Yep. I also know you and Cas don’t do ‘supposed to’,” Gabe smirks.

Dean just rolls his eyes, gently brushing brightly colored, metallic bits of paper off Cas’s shoulders. “You ok, Cas?” he whispers just loud enough for his husband to hear.

Turning his neutral expression on Dean, he blinks again, seeing the sparkling bits of color in his husband’s styled and gelled hair. Laughter starts, deep in his chest, growing and rumbling its way out until he can barely catch his breath. Grinning, Dean shakes his hair toward Cas, showering him with more rainbow bits and glitter, and then they’re both laughing, forgetting the rest of the room as they press together, trading deep kisses with chuckles as the confetti keeps sliding from their hair to their shoulders, catching on the pastel handkerchiefs in their pockets and the white roses pinned to their lapels. Neither notices the catcalls or renewed showers of confetti and glitter and they don’t part until Gabe, Sam, Charlie, and Meg all get in on the action, hugging and kissing the new husbands as myriad flashes go off. Dean grins against Cas’s lips, imagining the pages those photos will fill in their wedding album.

Cas forgets his concerns about being in the spotlight as friends and family pull the couple over to the tables where dinner is waiting. He and Dean don't have much appetite but they pick at the delicious spread provided by Gabe. There's laughter and fun and toasts and then Dean is pulling Cas onto the dance floor for the first dance of the night. Held in the warmth of his husband's embrace, the rest of the room fades away, the only thing Cas sees being his husband's adoring gaze drawing him in like the eternity they will spend together. Halfway through the song, Gabe pulls Sam onto the floor, Charlie and Meg following soon after. When the slow dance ends Garth invites people to put in songs to sing while he starts the karaoke off with the Beastie Boys’ ‘Fight For Your Right to Party’. It isn’t long before everyone is dancing, singing, and having so much fun that even Cas forgets about ‘playing normal’ and just enjoys himself. Charlie helps, pulling him and Dean onto the dance floor again and again, and he and Dean sing ‘Time of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing (which Dean made Cas watch months ago) together.

Dean had said they could leave after a few hours, but Cas finds himself wanting to stay. He basically has free reign over the karaoke, going up to sing every second or third song, and after a few glasses of champagne he finds himself forgetting about filtering his speech for normal people. Breezing through topics like writing, bees, ecology, sociology, legal tax deductions, tv shows, the differences between Japanese anime and American cartoons, books, literature, and back into writing, Cas finds the night speeding past. No one seems to mind his eclectic topics or lack of filters; everyone seems to just enjoy exchanging information and opinions. Part of Cas prays desperately that the alcohol isn’t clouding his judgment. Because not only would he be horrified to learn he bored or weirded out his friends all night, but he’d be very disappointed if people hadn’t really appreciated his conversations. Right now, the feeling of belonging, of sharing with like-minded people, and being with Dean, who will continue to put him in similar social situations, it’s the second-best thing he’s ever felt, next to the weight of Dean’s ring on his finger. 

Hours later, the reception is starting to wind down. Charlie, Max, and Alicia are the only ones left on the dance floor, even Meg having given up trying to keep pace with her lover. Cas has sung all his favorite songs and some he’d been wanting to try. It might just be the first time in his life he’s ever actually gotten his fill of karaoke. Sitting in his husband’s lap, nestled against his chest, Cas says as much to Dean and feels a soft rumble of laughter in his love’s chest.

“I didn’t think that was even remotely possible,” Dean smiles.

“Neither did I,” Cas chuckles.

“Tired?” Dean asks.

“Getting there,” Cas yawns. “But I’ve actually been having fun. I think this is also the first time I haven’t wanted to leave a party early.”

Laughing, Dean pulls out his phone from the inside pocket of his tux, turning it on to show Cas the time. “That’s good, because the party started at 6 and it’s after midnight. I think we’re well past the point of leaving early.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Considering I’ve spent it with you, not at all. But yeah, it’s been over six hours.”

“Doesn’t seem like it at all. This has been the best day of my life. Well, technically, yesterday was the best day of my life, since it’s after midnight,” Cas smiles, nestling against his husband and brushing his fingers lightly over Dean’s five-o’clock shadow.

“So far,” Dean amends with a grin. “I’ve got a lifetime I plan to spend making you say that as many times as I can.”

“How did I wind up so lucky?” Cas asks with a yawn.

Dean chuckles. “Same way I did. You gave me a chance,” he replies, brushing his lips over Cas’s and laughing more as the kiss is interrupted by another yawn, which Dean winds up echoing. “I think we should get home before we’re too tired to walk.”

“That would probably be best, since you can’t carry me while you’re asleep, and I can’t carry you even when I’m awake,” Cas deadpans, slipping off Dean’s lap and pulling him to his feet.

Laughing again, Dean hugs Cas and they go to find Sam and Gabe. Chuck, Jason, and the band members are seated at the table nearest the door, engaged in lively conversation with Gabe, Sam smiling beside his lover as he watches the exchange. “You’re both wrong; Kurosawa's the best,” Dean interrupts.

“That’s a given, if we were including live action movies. But we were discussing whether Gainax or Studio Ghibli is better,” Gabe replies.

“Dude, you can’t even compare them, their works are completely different so which is better depends on what type of anime you wanna watch,” Dean retorts.

“They both produce some pretty off the wall anime,” Chuck counters.

“Yeah, but their animation styles are-” Dean interrupts himself when Cas yawns again. “Guess I’ll let you guys go back to the debate. Cas and I need to head home.”

“Oh, yeah, guess it is gettin’ kinda late. Well, then, got one more gift for ya before you two head off,” Gabe replies, standing as Sam does the same beside him.

“Gabe, you’ve already done too much, we really can’t-” Cas starts to protest when Gabe cuts him off.

“Sure you can, there’s no such thing as too much when it comes to celebrating! Besides, this one’s a lot less extravagant,” Gabe insists, leading the way into the house and out the front door.

Cas stops and stares when they get to the porch and Dean gapes beside him, eyes wide. The rest of the guests crowd through the doorway behind them, as Gabe and Sam pull the newly married couple down the steps toward their waiting transportation.

“... How exactly is buying us horses less extravagant?” Dean asks, though there’s no sting in his words as he walks over to the larger of the two horses tethered in front of the house, sleek and black as his baby with a light tan saddle and Dean is obviously in love as he strokes the sleek coat over its shoulder. 

“Well, for one thing, I didn’t buy them for you; they’re rented for a month, with the option to buy if you fall in love. That one’s Demon,” Gabe explains, squeezing Sam’s hand as they watch Cas wrap his arms around the neck and shoulders of the smaller horse; smokey white with a black muzzle, mane, tail, and saddle. Lowering his head as though nuzzling against Cas, the beast uses the distraction to nip at his midnight tux. “The white one’s Angel; don’t let the names fool you. Their personalities are a bit backwards.”

“They’re beautiful,” Cas says, moving out of range of Angel’s teeth.

“Yep. The farm they come from is hoping to find them a good home together since they were born within days of each other and have spent their lives together,” Gabe adds.

“Cas, not to put a damper on things, but do you even know how to ride?” Dean asks.

“Does that matter? You’ll be nice for me, won’t you, Angel,” Cas grins, patting the horse’s mane then pulling his elbow out of range of another playful nip. He’s already given his heart to the beast, and can’t imagine not buying the pair after their one month rental.

“You’re also half asleep,” Dean points out, the reminder drawing a yawn from Cas. “How about you ride with me on this guy and we can lead Angel?”

“Actually,” Gabe interjects, “if you two wanna take Demon, I can ride Angel over then get them both taken care of for the night. Sam can drive the wedding gifts and pile them in the living room, then we’ll both head home and be outta your hair. You two can just relax and enjoy your wedding night.”

“Oh, we should stay and help clean up though,” Cas blinks. He’s not sure the protocol on that, but Gabe had helped after his birthday party.

“No worries there, kemosabi. Charlie and I’ll take care of that while they’re gone,” Garth says, clapping a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. By now, everyone has made it through the bottleneck at the door and the guests are spread out on the porch watching the scene with smiling faces.

“And I’ll supervise,” Meg adds with a sly grin.

“But-” 

“Cas, it’s customary for the couple to spend their wedding night enjoying each other’s company, not cleaning,” Dean says, cutting off his husband’s protest.

“Besides, you stayed a lot longer than we expected. We’re more than happy to send you off to explore your new place together,” Sam adds.

“We weren’t supposed to-?”

Dean cuts his husband off again, this time with a kiss. “We were supposed to stay exactly as long as we wanted, no more, no less. They just didn’t think we’d be able to keep our hands off each other this long,” he murmurs just loud enough for Cas to hear.

Shuddering at the warm breath against his ear, Cas brushes their lips together again. “They may be right. Take me home?”

“Always,” Dean replies, claiming his husband’s mouth once more, this time the kiss deep and heated, with tongues and hands and moans and a cheering audience.

***** 

“Hold on,” Dean says as the door swings open with his key still in the lock.

“Hold on to what?” Cas asks with a raised eyebrow, though he knows what Dean meant.

“Smart-ass.”

“Your smart-ass,” Cas teases.

“Yeah,” Dean grins, sweeping Cas up into his arms, “for the rest of our lives.”

Cas doesn’t squak, because grown men don’t do that, but his arms go around Dean’s neck and he stills, holding his breath as Dean carries him over the threshold. “Ok, Dean, put me down,” he demands as soon as they’ve cleared the doorway.

“What, don’t want me to carry you up to the bedroom, honey?” Dean teases, but the strain of his muscles has made it into his voice and Cas laughs.

“Who said you get to carry me over the threshold? Maybe I wanted to carry you,” Cas admonishes as Dean releases his legs, though still keeping the other arm around his husband’s shoulders.

“Did you? We can go back out and you can carry me in?” Dean grins, knowing Cas is kidding. They’re both grown men; either lifting the other is a bit of a strain. But though Cas has a good deal of strength in his legs, thanks to taking the stairs all the time and walking to work every day, Dean’s work at the scrapyard and building cars has developed his upper body strength a good deal more than his new husband’s. After all, pushing pencils doesn’t take much muscle unless you count the brain.

“I doubt that would be a good idea. Wouldn’t want you to get spoiled and expect me to carry you in every time we get home,” Cas replies, corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile.

“You’re already spoiling me, just by the fact that when we get home, it’s our home and we’re here together,” Dean smiles, wondering if his cheek bones are gonna survive this happiness.

“If I’m spoiling you, maybe it should be my turn?” Cas suggests, swallowing a yawn before it can stretch his jaw.

“Does rubbing soap all over you in a warm shower and tucking you into bed count as spoiling?”

“If it includes hair washing and reciprocation followed by shower sex, then definitely.”

“Sure you’re not gonna fall asleep before we even get to the shower?” 

“I’m counting on your to keep me ‘up’,” Cas smirks, turning and heading up the stairs.

“Oh, I will. But not for too long. It’s been a long day and you need sleep. Besides, I’m not in the mood for teasing tonight,” Dean says, chasing his new husband up to their new bedroom. “Been waitin’ a week for this. Though I still don’t know why you wanted to wait.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic,” Cas frowns as he strips down, piece by piece, to his underclothes, putting the tux carefully back on its hanger.

Dean would’ve liked to help, but Cas is just taking off his pants by the time he makes it into the room. Since everything else already hung up, Dean holds the hanger for Cas while he carefully presses the seams together, making sure everything is flat and even before draping the garment over the bar of the hanger. “Know what else would be romantic? Help me outta my tux?” Dean asks suggestively as Cas hangs his pants with the rest of the outfit.

Cas frowns down at his own lack of clothing. “Sorry, I should have let you-”

“Hey, no worries,” Dean murmurs, placing a finger over Cas’s lips to halt the apology. “It’s not like either of us has gotten married before, and there’s no rulebook.”

“Yes, but I want you to have the best memories of tonight.”

“Already have ‘em,” Dean grins. “The rest is just frosting. So, help me get this monkey suit off?”

“Yes,” Cas smiles shyly as he begins undressing Dean. He alternates between removing things quickly and slowly and Dean gets the impression he’s reminding himself to take his time, make it good for his husband. Then he rushes through the next article of clothing and has to remind himself to slow down again. It’s very endearing and as Cas hangs his slacks, Dean presses up against him from behind, arms sliding around his chest as he presses kisses to the back of his husband’s neck.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Dean asks against his ear.

“Hopefully a lot, because you’re stuck with me now,” Cas replies, and Dean can hear that unique Cas half-smile in his tone.

“Not ‘stuck with you’, I ‘get to have you’,” Dean clarifies, hands sliding under Cas’s white tee to enjoy the firm, warm flesh.

Turning in his embrace, Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, kissing him slowly but thoroughly. Taking a step or two backwards, Dean feels the wall against his back and enjoys the way Cas’s enthusiasm presses him into it. “Dean… I want you,” Cas breathes when he finally allows the kiss to end.

Cupping Cas’s face in a palm, Dean smiles fondly at the shiver that goes through his husband. It’s never sure how Cas will react to any touch, but Dean’s rarely disappointed. Sure, there have been a few times Cas was too sensitive for any type of touching, but most of the time, now included, his responses are positive, just varied. Dean’s left hand slides down from Cas’s back to cup his firm ass, pulling him closer to grind their half-hard cocks together through the cloth of their underwear, drawing a moan from his husband. “Lead the way?” Dean breathes, and Cas shivers again, then pulls away, twining fingers with Dean’s as he escorts him to the newly remodeled master bathroom.

Once inside, Cas turns on the water to start warming while he and Dean finish undressing each other.

Aside from having a window on the right-hand shower wall and four towel hooks on the wall behind the clawfoot tub instead of three, the new bathroom is almost exactly the same as the one at the apartment had been. They both agreed it was a good design, and Dean liked the added bonus that it’d be less change for Cas to deal with.

Adjusting the temperature, spray already set to mist, Cas pulls Dean into the shower and into his arms. “I love you,” he murmurs as their lips come together.

“Me too, Cas. I love you so much,” Dean echos between slow, smoldering kisses. Bodies pressed together, their lips meet time and again as the warm water mists over them. Though he knows Cas is still tired, Dean isn’t the one who controls the pace. Well, mostly, Dean thinks, grinning against his husband’s lips and sliding a hand to his firm ass, pulling him closer to rub their arousals together. 

Moaning, Cas backs up to the wall, pulling Dean with him. Hooking a leg over Dean’s hip, they rock together, cocks hardening as the slow heat burns faster between them.

Proud of his foresight in having a niche built into that wall, Dean grabs the shower lube and slicks up his fingers, helping hold Cas’s leg on his waist by reaching around it to find his waiting hole. Cas groans, head falling back against the tiles, arms gripping freckled shoulders for support as he rocks down onto the finger Dean slides into him. Meeting Cas’s half-lidded gaze, Dean smiles in understanding as he kisses the bared neck, sucking and lavishing nips and nibbles in the more sensitive spots as he slips another slick finger inside and scissors them, stretching. Whimpering, Cas shudders as Dean finds his prostate. Adding a third finger, Dean moans against Cas’s chest as his husband lets out another whimper, this one bordering on a whine as he squirms, rocking harder onto the fingers inside him, arousals rubbing together. Dean knows this Cas; too tired for words, too heated for silence, and too needy to remain still. Only waiting for one more keening cry of need, Dean pulls his fingers out, leaning away just enough for his cock to drop lower, where he strokes on some lube then guides it to the waiting warmth, slowly sheathing himself to the hilt.

His need to be filled fulfilled, Cas moans, releasing one of Dean’s shoulders to cup his cheek, bringing his face back into kissing range. Content just feeling the thick, hard cock inside him Cas kisses his husband, deep and powerful, tongues twining together as they simply enjoy being connected.

Pressing closer, Dean pins Cas securely against the wall, rocking slightly just to feel the push and pull of hot flesh around his cock. Swallowing his husband’s moans, he slowly strokes Cas, using the leftover lube on his hand to ease the glide. Whimpering, Cas pulls the hand away, placing it on his hip, which Dean grips firmly as he shifts from light rocking to longer thrusts, slow but deep. Dean watches Cas, eyes closed as he continues kissing, letting Dean set the pace though he meets every thrust. Sometimes their passion burns like a flashfire through their veins, but other times, like tonight, it’s a slow, molten heat that spreads from every point of contact until, eventually, they’re both drowning in it. And it isn’t until they both get that breathless need for more that the intensity of the heat hits. When that happens, as it does now, all sense of control disappears in the desperate need for completion. Dean’s thrusts quickly become frenzied, kiss forgotten as Cas cries out in pleasure and a need so aching it’s painful. Even lost in this dizzying quest, Dean is mindful of his partner, making sure to hit his prostate with every surge of his hips. Pulling his hand away meant Cas wanted to come on Dean’s cock, and Dean delivers. Trembling and whimpering as he gets closer to the edge, Cas grips Dean tighter, meeting his frenzied thrusts, twitching around the hard cock driving him onward. “Cas!” Dean pants, “Cas, I can’t- you gotta- please, Cas, need you to come for me.”

Shuddering at the hot steel driving into him hard and deep, coupled with the desperation in Dean’s voice, Cas whimpers, twitching as he reaches for release, then cries out as it finally hits. 

As the first spurts smear between their stomachs, Dean lets go too, filling his husband in pulses of pleasure as he cries out his name. Knowing how much Cas loves it, he continues driving into him until they’re both completely spent and Dean’s too sensitive to move. They remain joined like that, foreheads resting together, supported by the the wall, until Cas gently nudges Dean with the knee around his waist, prompting him to pull out, after which the leg slides back down to the shower floor. After a few more minutes of silent recovery, Dean gathers Cas into his arms and pulls him back under the warm spray, glad they’d gone with a tankless water heater. “I love you so much,” he murmurs into Cas’s ear as he reaches for the soap with one hand, other still supporting his rubbery husband. 

Still in a wordless mood, Cas nods, nuzzling closer to show what he can’t say. Dean’s chuckle as he tries to wash between them while Cas is snuggling brings a smile to his face, eyelids drooping.

Noting the way the long day has caught up with his husband, Dean makes quick work of cleaning, though he still takes the time to wash all the styling gunk out of their hair. Sure, they’ll have to dry it before bed and will wake with bedhead and have to wash it again anyway, but he doesn’t care for sleeping in crispy hair and doesn’t want Cas to have to either.

***

Too long, yet only a short time later, they’re both clean, dry, and snuggled together on their new mattress, which is supported by Cas’s old bed frame. Dean had insisted they needed a new mattress, but everything else is furniture from the apartment’s master bedroom. Settling comfortably under warm blankets, Dean pulls Cas close, holding him in a tender embrace. The thought that he gets to have this, have Cas with him like this, every night for the rest of their lives makes his heart swell in his chest.

“Dean…” Cas says after a while, apparently having found his voice.

“Hmm?” Dean responds, snuggling closer to his husband.

“You are going to teach me how to ride Angel, right? I mean, you don’t mind?” Cas asks, worry evident in his tone.

“Of course I will, Cas. You obviously love horses. I can’t wait to see you riding on your own. But I’m not the most experienced rider. Maybe we should hire someone who knows their stuff?”

“I’d rather learn from you,” Cas murmurs. “How did you learn?” he asks after a few moments.

“I always loved watching westerns, so when Sammy and me were kids, I managed to get us jobs once in a while, helping out around stables. We didn’t make a lot of money at it, but it was enough for a gallon of milk and a week’s worth of mac & cheese and sometimes enough left over for cereal, bread, and peanut butter. And as an added bonus, we both got to learn to ride and take care of horses.”

“It’s nice that you got to be around horses, but I don’t like that you had to work as a child just to be able to eat dinner,” Cas frowns, snuggling closer.

Dean gets the impression Cas would climb inside him if he could and the thought brings a smile to his face. “That’s all in the past. And considering where the past has lead me, I’m not complaining. I love you Mr. Winchester,” he murmurs, kissing his husband.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas replies softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry it took so long for this chapter. Between struggling with writing something i'm not familiar with at all, and wanting to get Forgotten Lies finished up, it's just been way too long. I do have a few more chapters planned for this timestamp, which will cover til the end of this first year, and after that i've decided to do further timestamps as oneshot stories. i think. we'll see how it plays out :D but there's definitely a CharM chapter coming next, followed by a Sabriel, and then a short epilogue. after that, I'm hoping to go back to Blunt to the Point of Love for a bit. Assuming I can fit it in between a couple other obligations :D
> 
>  
> 
> [Mathematical Miracle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ed-WuTqF0_k&t=4s)  
> [Heavenly Body Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tYNRi4S2vs&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWumf0mpWezPWlXnrS96FGVL)  
> [Supernatural Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw6_VXPwm6U&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWvqcFahx2ABIAr9fwxFww2w)
> 
>  
> 
> As always, comments, questions, suggestions and corrections welcomed and encouraged!


	8. Witchy Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I am not ‘moping’,” Charlie protests, resting a cheek against Meg’s arm though she remains focused on her computer._  
>  _“Sure you’re not. And I’m the Queen of England,” Meg Pouts. “It’s_ Halloween _, since when do you not spend the day getting ready for the costumed rugrats?”_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** Explicit  
>  **Warnings:** none  
>  **Pairings:** CharM  
>  **Characters:** Charlie Bradbury, Meg Masters  
>  **Tags:** F/F, smut, halloween, feels, just a little angst  
>  **Word Count:** 4,368  
>  no beta on this one, just proofed myself and will prolly proof again in a few days. Thanks to [CR_Noble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erudite12) for the help, encouragement, and enthusiasm on this chapter :D

“C’mon, Babe, You’ve been mopin’ around for three weeks and it’s Halloween. Your favorite holiday. Cheer up, huh?” Meg coaxes, leaning over the back of the couch where Charlie is working on her laptop and wrapping her arms around her lover.

“I am not ‘moping’,” Charlie protests, resting a cheek against Meg’s arm though she remains focused on her computer.

“Sure you’re not. And I’m the Queen of England,” Meg Pouts. “It’s _Halloween_ , since when do you not spend the day getting ready for the costumed rugrats?”

“Since when did you turn into a nag?” Charlie counters, a bit more sharply than she meant.

“Fine. You wanna treat me like trash, you can just spend Halloween by yourself,” Meg growls, pulling away and storming off to their room, arms crossed over her chest.

“Shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Meg, wait!” Charlie protests, laptop thumping onto the couch as she dashes after her lover, hoping her foot isn’t so far in her mouth that she can’t get it back out. “Meg, please! You were right,” she admits, fists banging lightly on the door. “I have been moping. I didn’t mean to neglect you. Sorry,” Charlie says, leaning a cheek against the door as she continues pounding at it weakly. “Come on, Meg, talk to me. … Don’t be like that, please. Let me in,” she begs, ear against the door. The answering silence echos and Charlie turns, back sliding down the door until she’s resting on her ass, bent knees encircled by her arms, blinking back tears. Why does she always wind up making Meg mad?

 

*****

 

Falling backward when the door jerks open behind her, Charlie looks up at Meg in surprise, arms still clasped around her bent knees. “It was unlocked, dumbass,” Meg smirks down at her, trying not to laugh.

“Meg, please, I’m sorry, you know I’m sorry, right?” Charlie gushes, scrambling up off the floor.

“Yeah, you’re sorry a lot lately,” Meg pouts. “It’s becoming a habit.”

“You know I’m not normally like this. It’s just like you said; I’ve been moping. And I haven’t been given you enough attention but I’ll make it up to you I promise,” Charlie insists, ducking down to look up at Meg, whose head is bowed, glaring at the floor. Meg’s lips purse when Charlie appears in her line of vision, but the redhead seems to sense she’s starting to get through to her lover. Whimpering softly, she noses upward, nudging along Meg’s cheek and darting her tongue out to lick moisture from the corner of her eye.

Struggling to maintain her frown, Meg turns away from her lover, arms still crossed over her chest. “You think you can just bat those pretty eyelashes at me and I’ll forgive you?”

Apparently she does, because Charlie pounces, both of them falling onto the bed. She licks every bit of Meg’s face she can reach with the brunette pressed into the mattress, like a kitten lapping up a bowl of milk.

“Ok, ok, I give! If you meant it about making it up to me, I’ll forgive you,” Meg relents. “Just stop with the licking already; it tickles.” Charlie jumps off Meg instantaneously, landing beside her on her knees. Rolling onto her back, Meg sits up, resting back onto her arms as she gives a dark lashed, half lidded look at Charlie. “Whatever am I supposed to do with you?” She smirks, her usual drawl dropped low and sultry.

Smiling, Charlie crawls closer, nuzzling against her lover and doing a pretty damn good impersonation of cat, purr and all. “Better question is, what you would you like _me_ to do with _you_?” she murmurs next to Meg’s ear.

“Mmm… I’m sure I can think of something,” Meg humms, going with Charlie’s spontaneous roleplay and petting through her beautiful red hair. “You thirsty, little kitty? Maybe you should look around and see if you can’t find some milk?”

“Yes please,” Charlie murmurs with an audible grin. She gives Meg’s ear a quick lick, nibbling on the lobe, then sits back and waits for Meg to get comfortable. Scooting back, Meg settles comfortably onto the pillows with her hands behind her head and smirks down the length of her body at Charlie. With an answering grin the redhead crawls up the bed, licking her lips before nosing under Meg’s t-shirt. Kneading with her ‘paws’, Charlie licks her way to one breast, nipple already taut with anticipation. Suckling at the soft mound, she teases the other, squeezing lightly and raking her nails over the nub.

Meg moans, arching into the attention as one hand moves to stroke down Charlie’s back, petting absently as she enjoys the attention. “Mmm, such a good little kitty you are,” she praises, knowing how much Charlie needs to hear that. Over the years, Meg’s come to know her lover possibly better than the redhead knows herself. They’ve been together, though just as friends at first, since Charlie arrived at the group home when she was twelve. Meg had been eleven, and though she was younger, she’d been at that home for over a year already so she took the older girl under her wing. Meg has lost count of the number of times Charlie’s tech savvy has gotten her out of trouble. It’s never really been in Meg’s nature to be nice to strangers, but she thanks her guardian demon every day that she’d befriended the adorable and talented redhead. And that talent isn’t just with her brain, Meg thinks with a loud moan as Charlie switches to tease her other breast. She knows all of Meg’s most sensitive spots and never fails to give her exactly what she wants, just enough and in just the right way to get her really going. “Hey, pretty little kitty, I think that tap’s all out. Maybe try looking a little lower?” she drawls, a groan of pleasure rumbling deep in her throat as Charlie complies.

Still playing the kitty, Charlie licks and nips her way down Meg’s slender abdomen, teasing lightly around her belly button before tonguing open the button on her tight, low-riding jeans. The strength of that skilled tongue displayed by the act has Meg wet and longing to feel it teasing her. She manages to be patient while Charlie grabs the zipper in her teeth, gazing up at Meg with dancing eyes as she slowly pulls the zipper down. But when Charlie bites the opened waistband and starts tugging, Meg decides she’s had enough of letting the pussy try to uncover the pussy. Arching her hips up off the bed, Meg pushes both her jeans and panties down in one go, shimmying them down her legs and kicking them off onto the floor without noticing or caring where they land. “Impatient much?” Charlie laughs.

“Hey, kitties don’t talk. Weren’t you supposed to be finding something to lick with that tongue of yours?” Meg drawls, spreading her legs for her lover.

“... Meow,” Charlie grinns, squeezing her way under Meg’s bent knee instead of going over it like a normal person. It is, however, very cat-like, and Charlie purrs as she settles between her lover’s legs and pauses looking up at Meg, tongue hovering over her clit.

“Gonna keep me waiting? I thought you were thirsty?” Meg wheedles.

With a wink Charlie lowers her head, licking around the sensitive skin but never actually touching the bundle of nerves that aches for attention. Flat and wide, her tongue licks up Meg’s slit, stopping just shy of the clit and causing the brunette to whimper. Circling back to the moist channel, Charlie narrows her tongue, teasing around the entrance until her lover is squirming in impatience and need.

“Chuck, if you don’t- Aaaah” Meg cries as Charlie finally stops teasing and thrusts her tongue in. If there’s one thing her girlfriend is good at, -and there isn’t, there’s actually way more than one thing- it’s tongue-fucking. Meg moans, hips arching up as Charlie presses deeper, tongue delving into the brunette’s heat and driving her wild. And just as she’s hovering on the edge between too much and not enough, Charlie pulls off, sliding a finger through Meg’s moisture to rub over her clit, lightly, side to side, with not-quite-enough pressure. When Meg’s pelvis arches up, trying to get more, Charlie removes her finger. Whimpering, Meg’s hips fall back to the bed.

“Nyaa,” Charlie scolds and Meg chuckles through her whimpers at the use of the Japanese word for ‘meow’. The red-head is such a geek, and Meg loves every geeky bit of her, though she’d never tell Charlie that.

“Okay, okay, I get it. You’re in control Neko-chan. I’ll be good,” Meg coos, and Charlie must appreciate her using the Japanese for ‘Miss Kitty’, because she’s back at it, tongue thrusting deep into Meg’s pussy as she goes back to rubbing lightly over her clit with a freshly moistened finger. Moaning and writhing, Meg is swiftly brought to the edge and kept there by Charlie’s skilled fingers and strong tongue. “Oh, babe, please, you’ve gotta let me come. I’m so close. Please,” Meg begs, forgetting Charlie’s the one in control.

“Am I forgiven?” Charlie asks, pausing her ministrations to give her lover a devilish smile.

“What?” Meg asks, having completely forgotten the beginning of this round of mind-blowing sex. Whatever it was, it can’t have been important. Or at least, not as important as coming right the fuck now. “Yes, yes, anything, just do it babe, please!”

Charlie gives her a searching look, as though she knows Meg has no idea what she just forgave, but must decide to be merciful because she returns her attention to Meg’s pleasure. This time her mouth goes to the clit, tongue flicking back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves as her long fingers slide into her lover, probing deep and hitting all the right spots. Meg’s begging praises become a litany of inarticulate moans and gasps that grow louder as she nears the crest. When Charlie’s other hand starts kneading her ass, spreading Meg’s cheeks apart with ring finger and thumb to allow her middle finger access to the tight ring, teasingly probing at the pucker as two fingers of her other hand thrust deep into her slick, tight heat and her mouth sucks and tongues at Meg’s clit, the wave finally crashes through her, small hands tangling in Charlie’s hair as her hips arch up and her cries echo through the room.

Meg’s body shudders, cries fading to whimpers as Charlie milks her through her orgasm. When she can’t take anymore, Meg gently pushes Charlie away, a twitching, shapely leg nudging against the redhead’s side.

“Good?” Charlie smirks, licking her lips.

Meg Moans in reply, boneless and shuddering. She should tell Charlie how much she loves her, but Meg never does. Though they’ve been together for years, there’s always been a part of her that fears saying the words out loud would shake the foundation of their relationship until it crumbles like a house of cards. Not that she thinks what they have is weak, just that both women have things in their past that have left them too strong to bend, but too brittle to stand against an onslaught of happiness. Life has proven that joy never lasts, so Meg settles for being content. They both keep working to give the other what she wants, needs, because the moment either stops is the moment this interlude between life’s shitstorms ends.

Crawling up the bed, Charlie cuddles up next to her lover, tracing the one finger she hadn’t used over Meg’s chest and nuzzling into her neck. “You okay?” she asks softly, concerned over the brief flickers of emotions disturbing her girlfriend’s sated glow.

“Yeah,” Meg smiles, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “You’re fuckin’ amazing. You know that, right?”

“I think may have heard that said,” Charlie grins. “Pretty sure some hot chick has mentioned something along those lines to me before.”

“Hot chick? Invite her over for a threesome?” Meg teases.

Laughing, Charlie replies, “You can’t even handle me, and you think you’d survive two women going down on you?”

“Sure… long as we have some defibrillators handy,” Meg chuckles. “And speaking of going down on you…”

“You don’t have to, I’m good,” Charlie purrs, nuzzling again.

“I know I don’t have to. Believe me, babe, I never do anything I don’t _want_ to do. And right now, I want very much to take you to heaven and back. If you think you can handle that?” Meg smirks, tracing a finger lightly down Charlie’s arm.

“You know I’d never deny you anything you want,” Charlie grins.

*****

As Meg finishes the last touches to her makeup, Charlie appears behind her in the mirror, pulling a pair of deep red, lace panties from the tip of Meg’s pointed witch’s hat. “Oh, so _that’s_ where those went,” Meg grins. When she’d kicked off her jeans earlier the panties hadn’t landed with them on the floor and she hadn’t been able to find them. Guess now she knows why. Meg and Charlie both had a _very_ enjoyable afternoon and are just finishing halloween preparations. Which include getting ready for tonight’s rugrats.

Charlie declares her Codex cosplay is both accurate and not too inappropriate for children, -yeah, ‘cause those two things can be true at the same time- and follows Meg into the kitchen to help pour bags of candy bars into two big bowls. Taking the treats to the door, they open it and set up two folding chairs in their hallway, sides pressed together as they sit because there’s limited room, some of which is taken up by the open door. A few of the parents taking children around to beg for candy give them ‘the look’, but for the most part everyone is smiling and friendly, even when their kids ask if Meg and Charlie are married or why don’t they have their own kids to take trick or treating. Meg always lets Charlie answer those, because she would just give a blunt, and probably not age-appropriate, answer. On the other hand, Charlie always glances to the parents first, waiting for a cue before answering. If she gets a nod, her answer is ‘not yet’. But if the parent shakes their head, she just says that people don’t have to be married or have children to live together. It’s cheaper to split the bills and easier to share the chores. But regardless of the parents’ reactions, both women love seeing the kids in their costumes, enjoying the holiday. Well, it’s mostly Charlie who loves the costumed kids, and Meg loves the way Charlie loves seeing them. 

Having been long enough since the makeup sex that Meg’s brain is functioning again, she remembers what the argument had been about. In between kiddies, she nudges her girlfriend’s shoulder softly. “Hey, Chuck, about this morning…” she starts, wondering what the best approach would be.

“Oh, no. You already forgave me for that; no take-backs,” Charlie insists.

“Relax, would ya? I’m not taking it back, even if you did trick me into it. But as much as I love the make-up s-” Meg breaks off, realizing there are children approaching. Once the kids’ve chanted the magic spell that produces free candy once a year, -the highlight of Meg’s childhood because it meant even when her mom forgot to feed her or the group home was low on funds, she had a stash of food- and moved on, she continues before Charlie can stop her. “Much as I love the _fun of making up_ , if we don’t talk we’ll keep repeating the same argument, and you know I prefer variety.”

“You accused me of moping,” Charlie frowned, arms crossed over her chest. “Which you have forgiven me for, so why do we need to talk about it?”

“Because I forgave you for moping this morning, but you know you’re just gonna keep doing it,” Meg replies. 

“I won’t. I’ll stop, I promise,” Charlie says as the next batch of kids approaches.

“You’ve been doing it for three weeks. You’re not gonna stop until you work through what’s bothering you,” Meg pouts after they’ve left.

“It’s not a big deal, I can work through it on my own.”

“If you could do that, you woulda done it already. C’mon, spill, Charlie.”

“No, really. I’m fine. Or I will be. Soon. Promise. I just don’t want to bother you with this.”

“You’re already bothering me with it by refusing to talk. If you don’t want to be a pain in the ass, then just spit it out already,” Meg growls. Charlie usually talks about anything and everything so she rarely gets like this. But when she does, it’s usually something she feels bad for feeling bad about. Which is not only ridiculous, but makes it like pulling teeth to get it out of her. 

Casting a worried frown at Meg, Charlie chews her bottom lip, hugging herself with her crossed arms.

Lips pursed, Meg stares back pointedly, turning in her chair to face the stubborn red-head and crossing her own arms over her chest.

After a several minute standoff, Charlie deflates. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s bothering you. I don’t give a shit if you’re worried about the price of tea in China, it’s not stupid because it’s obviously important to you. So _talk_ ".

Charlie knows when she’s pushed Meg too far so she takes a deep breath and... waits until after a princess, a ninja, and Constantine all get their candy and move on. “Sorry, it’s just… I’m worried about Cas,” she mumbles once they’re relatively alone again. Some kids are making their way up the hall, but there’s a bit of time before they’ll be close.

“I keep telling you, Chuck, he’s a big boy. Data can take care of himself. And if he does have any trouble, he’s got hubby there to help him. And his bartender friend right next door if he needs anything during the day.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And he’s got your phone number, plus a ‘phone’ he can keep with him. And if he can’t bring himself to call, he can text, now that you’ve taught him how. Or email you.” Meg doesn’t know how Charlie can let her best friend think that tiny flip-open thing is a phone. But the point is, it works and he knows how to use it. 

“I know that, but-”

“Plus, you still see Cas just as much as you did when he lived right downstairs. Game night and karaoke nights every week. Not to mention you’ve started dragging him out for lunch breaks every day, so you’ve actually been seeing him _more_. You know he’s doing fine,” Meg concludes as a group of superheros arrive.

“I know he _says_ he’s doing fine. But would he tell me if he wasn’t? He keeps that stuff bottled up, thinking talking about his problems is gonna bother his friends and family,” Charlie frowns once the kids have gone past.

“Gee, I can’t imagine where he could have picked up that kind of behavior,” Meg says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. 

“I’m being serious here,” Charlie grumps.

“So’m I. How long did it take to get you talking?”

“Not that long. It hasn’t even been half an hour,” Charlie protests.

Meg gives her girlfriend a pointed look that has the redhead frowning in thought.

“Oh. Right, since this morning,” Charlie corrects.

“No, for almost three weeks. I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me since the morning after the wedding,” Meg sighs.

“You have?”

Meg just rolls her eyes, turning back to sit squarely in her seat as though she’s done with Charlie.

“You have. I’m so sorry, Meg. I’m just not good at the whole sharing thing,” Charlie apologizes.

“And I am? You know something’s fucked up when _I’m_ the one handling the feels in this relationship,” Meg retorts.

“I really am sorry. Shit, I keep saying that. Seriously, I didn’t even realize I was dwelling on Cas having moved until you pointed it out this morning,” Charlie fumbles.

“Which is when you should have talked about it,” Meg chides.

“Well, I’m talking about it now?” Charlie says, almost cutely enough for Meg to let it go. Almost.

“No, you _were_ talking about it, but now you’re talking about not talking about it. C’mon, babe, what’s really the problem? You didn’t think he was gonna live a 3 minute walk away for the rest of our lives, did you?”

“Well, kinda, yeah,” Charlie shrugs. “But it’s not like I blame him for moving away or anything. And you’re right, we still see each other plenty, it’s just… if he has a problem and needs me to talk him down, I’m almost an hour away.”

“Well, we could always try moving closer. But other than that, there’s nothing you can do about the distance,” Meg replies.

“Right, because you’ve always wanted to live in the country,” Charlie jokes.

“If that’s where you need to be, I can put up with it. I bet Cas and Gabe would let us put up a yurt or park a tiny home between their properties,” Meg chuckles.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah. Told you babe, if that’s what you need, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Charlie throws her arms around Meg’s neck, forgetting that it’s Halloween and they’re sitting in their open doorway. The sound of a throat clearing reminds her, and she jerks away blushing. Fortunately, the voice that says ‘Trick or treat’ sounds too old to be a little kid, and she looks up to see a sith lord, red and black face paint, cloak, red lightsaber and all. “Woah, that costume is amazing,” she gushes, pulling out her phone from her back pocket. “Mind if I get a picture?”

“Only if you get in it with me and your girlfriend takes pictures with both our phones?” the sith replies. He definitely sounds old enough to be done with trick or treating, but Charlie’s always said as long as they put effort into dressing up, they deserve their candy.

Meg stands and holds out her hands for phones before Charlie can turn on her ‘anime sparkle eyes’ look. It’s not like she’s not gonna do it regardless, and arguing will just have her girlfriend standing next to possibly-creepy-stalker-guy longer. Double-sided lightsaber crossed with kick-ass healer’s staff, they do a battle pose and Meg takes several pictures with each phone, then sighs when they withdraw their clashed weapons and go in for the hug. Contemplating the logistics of where would be the most soundproof place for a nice long torture session and how hard it would be to remove and dispose of the body, Meg clicks a few more pictures, gives the kid his phone back then pours what’s left of their chocolate into his pillowcase. “Have a good night, kid,” Meg threatens as she drags her girlfriend past their folding chairs and into their apartment.

“Happy Halloween,” Charlie calls to the startled teen as Meg pulls her away.

Jerking the folding chairs closed and shutting the door, Meg rounds on her girlfriend, breath drawn to complain, then deflates at the look on Charlie’s face. “Sorry. I might’ve been a little jealous,” Meg pouts.

“It’s okay. It’s after 8:30. Trick or treating technically ended half an hour ago. But that was completely innocent cosplay appreciation. No inappropriate touching, no sleazy breathing, no clammy nerd-boy hands.”

“I know. And for the record, I think I handled the jealousy pretty well. I mean, the kid still has all his fingers, right?” Meg points out.

Charlie rolls her eyes, going to the kitchen and grabbing the bag of candy she must’ve kept hidden. She tosses it onto the island and starts a pot of coffee. After all, Halloween treats aren’t just for the rugrats.

“Back to the serious shit, whadda you wanna do about Data? Should I start packing?” Meg asks a few minutes later when she comes out from the bathroom. Flopping onto one of the chairs at the island’s overhang, she opens the bag but doesn’t take any yet.

Smiling, Charlie brings over two fresh cups of coffee, one with mocha creamer, the other with french vanilla. “You know you’re the best girlfriend ever, right?” she comments, planting a kiss on Meg’s cheek and her ass on the other stool. Sliding the french vanilla over to her lover, she grabs a bag of skittles and starts separating the less-than-a-handful of candies by color. 

Meg pulls a Milky Way out and nibbles on it between sips of coffee. “Of course I am. As your best friend, I’d never let you settle for a girlfriend who wasn’t,” she replies with a smug grin.

“But no need to pack. I don’t like Cas living so far away, but you’re right. He’s a big boy; it’s about time he left the nest. And he’s gotten better about talking through things since the whole avoiding Dean for four months fiasco. Dean really has been great for him. I’m glad I got them together,” Charlie praises herself. “So, for now, I’m going to trust Cas. Dean will come to me if there’s something he’s not talking about anyway, so… it should be fine. They’ll be fine.”

“You sure you’re ok with it now? Because we can talk more. And I meant it, if you want to live closer-”

“No, really, it’s fine. I”m good now,” Charlie interrupts.

“You just don’t want to move out of the city,” Meg accuses, understanding dawning. “You haven’t just suddenly stopped worrying about Cas; you just realized the only thing you could do is move and you don’t want to leave the city.”

“Hey, I’d leave the city in a heartbeat,” Charlie protests, then stares down at her coffee. “But Cas needs to spread his wings. He really has grown a lot since he and Dean got together. It wouldn’t be fair for me to keep treating him like he can’t manage without me,” she says softly, before dropping her voice even quieter. “Besides, the only internet available out there is satellite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't written much f/f, but i had fun with this, so hope it turned out ok. not sure when the next chapter for this will be out, but it'll be sabriel focused (and may take two chapters to fit it all). after that, i have a short epilogue and that'll wrap up the first year. yeah, lotsa stuff happening in just one year hehe. :D
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> [Mathematical Miracle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ed-WuTqF0_k&t=4s)  
> [Heavenly Body Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tYNRi4S2vs&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWumf0mpWezPWlXnrS96FGVL)  
> [Supernatural Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw6_VXPwm6U&list=PLgXJ85KwZVWvqcFahx2ABIAr9fwxFww2w)
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> As always, comments, questions, suggestions and corrections welcomed and encouraged!


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